


PWRY Volume 1

by OniRinku



Series: PWRY [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Abusive Parents, Anti-Faunus Racism (RWBY), Bad Parenting, Child Neglect, F/M, Genderbending, Lesbian Weiss Schnee, Lesbian Yang Xiao Long, Male Ruby Rose (RWBY), Parent Qrow Branwen, Protective Qrow Branwen, Protective Siblings, Ruby Rose (RWBY) Needs a Hug, Ruby Rose (RWBY) has PTSD, Rule 63, Sibling Love, Team as Family, Wolf Faunus Summer Rose (RWBY)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26757970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OniRinku/pseuds/OniRinku
Summary: "Sometimes when someone unlocks their aura in a dangerous or traumatic situation, the soul naturally realizes that the person needs more than just aura to survive. In those instances the soul converts aura into a semblance.""And since a semblance is a product of aura and not aura itself, someone in these situations can train their semblance and eventually develop a second semblance, the one they would have had if the traumatic event had never happened."
Relationships: Ozpin & Ruby Rose, Pyrrha Nikos & Ruby Rose, Qrow Branwen & Ruby Rose, Qrow Branwen & Summer Rose, Qrow Branwen & Yang Xiao Long, Ruby Rose & Summer Rose, Ruby Rose & Weiss Schnee, Ruby Rose & Yang Xiao Long, Summer Rose & Taiyang Xiao Long, Summer Rose & Yang Xiao Long, Weiss Schnee/Yang Xiao Long
Series: PWRY [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949371
Comments: 20
Kudos: 78





	1. The Boy with Six Eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vicky_Omega](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vicky_Omega/gifts).
  * Inspired by [RNBY: Volume One](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27011218) by [Vicky_Omega](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vicky_Omega/pseuds/Vicky_Omega). 



The city of Vale, capital city of the Kingdom of Vale, and former kingdom of Valentia, as well as home to the renowned Beacon Academy, the single greatest combat school to ever grace the world of Remnant. That was what most people thought of when they considered the grand city, with its storied history and culture, along with the stores, restaurants, parks, ruins, forests, lakes, and even seas, that all made up an integral part of the city’s identity. But when Rouvin Rose thought of the city, he thought of home. The teen had a small frown on his face, as he walked through his hometown. On an ordinary night, he could usually be found listening to music, as he drew, or painted, or messed around with clay, or tinkering with his beloved Crescent Rose, or Kauwela, but tonight wasn’t an ordinary night, and he felt himself desperately needing to get out of the modest apartment that he had called his home for the last nine, almost ten years. 

Rouvin just let his feet carry him to wherever they pleased, he had no true destination in mind, not tonight, not when his path was so uncertain, traditionally crossroads featured four paths, one of them simply being going backwards, but that simply wasn’t an option, not for Rouvin, going back, would go against his very nature, a direct contradiction to the blood coursing through his veins. But the crossroad was foggy, and Rouvin wasn’t sure what his other choices even were, or for how long he could remain at an impasse.

The teen sighed to himself when he found himself walking through town, there were still people out, which made sense, it wasn’t terribly late, but Rouvin still drew his red cloak tighter around his body, ignoring the strange stares that he was getting, stares were things he was used to, besides, he much preferred the strange stares, than the murmurs, taunts, and jeers he usually received when he removed his cloak, and showed his face to people. Rouvin’s gloved hands clenched into fists, as the voices that lingered in the back of his head grew in intensity, shouting the taunts and insults that still haunted his dreams, the insults weren’t anything new, and he always heard them daily, either in the back of his mind, or in his nightmares, and they were hardly original. Instead they were the usual insults, half-breed, bastard, animal, half-blood, the words were always repeated in the back of his mind, occasionally out of his hearing range, but Rouvin usually didn’t find himself that lucky.

“Luck.” Rouvin snorted at the concept, and the fifteen year old felt his hands relax, luck was such a stupid concept, and on Rouvin’s personal list of hated concepts, luck probably managed to make the top five, only after fate, circumstance, destiny, and of course, the dreaded idea of gods. Luck was just a concept, things didn’t happen randomly, they all happened for a reason, but that didn’t mean that there were higher beings that watched Remnant from above, nor did it mean that things were destined to happen in a certain way, things happened, because someone made a choice, cause and effect, action, and reaction. So many people believed in luck, took gambles on luck, on chance, and Rouvin only shook his head at them, even his own Uncle Qrow, the man was practically Rouvin’s father, believed in luck, or rather, bad luck.

Rouvin released a small sigh at the thought of his uncle, the man along with his big sister Yang, had practically raised Rouvin, he owed everything to his family, but Qrow had always been closer with Yang, Rouvin knew why, he wasn’t stupid. Qrow had told his niece and nephew about his semblance when he had taken them in. Supposedly it caused bad luck, and it didn’t discriminate on who it affected, it harmed both friend and foe. Qrow was afraid that with Rouvin’s… condition, he would unintentionally get harmed by his uncle’s semblance. Thankfully, Yang had managed to talk some sense into their uncle, and Qrow had eventually agreed to teach Rouvin, both before Yang went to Signal Academy, and after Rouvin had been expelled from the school for… disciplinary issues, and a so-called “inability” to control his semblance. 

The Rose hissed to himself at the thought, it was never about whether or not he could control his semblance, it was like Qrow’s always active, and like his uncle’s, it didn’t discriminate between friend and foe, besides those punks had deserved the beat down he had given them, they had taunted him with words for the entire year, and then the dumbasses had tried to turn the problem into a physical one, they had tried to take Rouvin on as a group, but they weren’t fast enough for him, nor were they smart enough, they threw the first punch, they started the fight, he just finished it, perhaps he should have restrained himself a little more, but the blood coursing through his veins was starved, needing a battle to sink its teeth into. 

Rouvin shook his head, trying to clear his mind, he was getting distracted again, besides, focussing on bad memories does nothing to keep them away. It was a waste of time anyway, the memories were in the past now, the past, a place where they could still hurt him, but could not be changed by him, no matter how much Rouvin wished that he could. 

Rouvin paused when he passed by From Dust Till Dawn, a small locally owned dust shop, it was pretty good, the prices were a bit higher, but the dust was of higher quality than one would get from the SDC, plus the shop had a good collection of weapon magazines, was opened later than most other dust shops, and the owner was very friendly and was perfectly happy to serve faunus. While the last thing didn’t affect Rouvin directly, since as a half faunus, he looked like an ordinary human, he would refuse to shop at a place that would refuse to serve his mom. Maybe it was silly, Summer Rose was dead, had been dead for years, but Rouvin just kept trying, desperately trying to do something, anything, to get a stamp of approval that would never come, could never come. 

Rouvin just shook his head again, before taking a sharp right and walking into the dust store, Rouvin gave a brief nod as a form of greeting to the owner of the store, and the older, balding man nodded right back to one of his frequent, albeit younger, customers. Rouvin walked to the back of the store, to where the owner kept his weapon magazines. As he read, Rouvin felt his right hand trail down to his hip, where Kauwela rested, sheathed, but ready for action should the need arise. Once Rouvin was positive that he was out of sight, he exhaled through his mouth, watching the silver puff of air that escaped from his breath laconically, with his tendency for darker clothes, longer hair, and of course his beloved eyeshadow, he had always been labeled as “emo” or “goth”. The strange silver puffs of air that always left his mouth whenever he exhaled through it would just give off an image that he smoked, which wasn’t the greatest reputation to have, considering he was only fifteen years old. 

Rouvin allowed himself to become engrossed by the magazine, creating weapons might have to become his future, even though he was positive that the path of the warrior was calling him, just as it had called his entire family, but with his damned condition, he might never even get the chance to become a huntsman. 

Rouvin put the magazine back, before looking for a new one, but while he searched, his thoughts turned to the real reason why he went out into the city tonight, his big sister, Yang. Yang would be going off to Beacon next week, and Rouvin supposed that he was jealous of Yang, she would be able to follow her dream, get to see the world, see new faces, experience new cultures, all while helping people, and being paid to do so. Sure Rouvin could always just travel himself, and the idea of seeing Atlas during the Winter was especially appealing, especially if it was during Solstice week. But Rouvin just knew being a citizen, a civilian wasn’t HIS path, that was what going backwards meant, leaving everything he had learned, everything he had suffered through, his joys, sorrows, triumphs, losses all behind. But Rouvin couldn’t, the past is what defined people like him, he couldn’t give that past up, no matter how much it hurt him, because without that past, he would be nothing. Rouvin loved Yang, she was so much more than just his big sister, she was his best friend, his closest confidant, and his surrogate mom.  _ ‘But when was the last time you said that you loved her?’  _

Rouvin winced at the insidious whispers of the voices, this was something new at least, but as loathe as the boy was to admit it, he didn’t know when the last time he had told Yang that, saying those words had always been hard for him. If someone had ever asked him why that was, Rouvin would simply lie and say he didn’t know, but the boy did know, and it was because of his fear. He was afraid, afraid that Yang would hate him if she saw what lies beneath his mask, something that had been in place for years, and something that had been carved even earlier. Rouvin was scared, scared that Yang would be repulsed by the Rouvin that hid beneath the surface, the Rouvin that was wild and dangerous, not just to foes. But to everyone around him, the Rouvin that was caged, that desperately struggled, and clawed, and bit, and scratched in order to break free. 

Rouvin ignored the welcome bell, and instead went back to reading, pulling out his headphones and choosing shuffle on his scroll. Rouvin groaned when classical music started playing, before a young woman’s voice began to accompany it, when was the last time Yang had access to his music? And how did she manage to put Weiss Schnee of all people on it? Rouvin shook his head but made no move to change the song, the Schnee heiress was gifted in the musical arts, but personally he thought that maybe she would do better outside of the classical songs that she was known for singing, where was the joy? The fun? Weiss Schnee’s songs were dull as dirt.

Rouvin just kept reading, but remained on alert, something was wrong, it was quiet, but not late at night in a store kind of quiet, something was happening, he would take his headphones off, but that would potentially give off the idea that he knew something was up. 

Rouvin occasionally glanced over his shoulder, and on one of those glances, he noticed an older man in a suit, and sunglasses, holding a crude and cheaply made blade stalking towards him. Rouvin quickly went back to reading, but his left hand went to grip Kauwela, ready to quickly draw the sword if he was forced to. The man roughly tapped Rouvin’s shoulder, and the boy flinched reflexively, he quickly closed his eyes, reminded himself where he was, and removed his headphones with one hand, the other remained on Kauwela, caressing the grip softly, trying to give off the appearance of a distracted kid.

“I said hands in the air kid!” Rouvin almost laughed at the situation, this older man looked to be on the shorter side, maybe five feet, seven inches tall. While Rouvin already stood at six feet tall, despite only being a fifteen year old kid. But this was no joking matter, this dude was robbing the store, Rouvin glanced over his shoulder again, the man was clearly incompetent, since he just let Rouvin perform the action. The man wasn’t alone, four other men in identical black suits, all clutching cheap weapons in their hands were in the store, and those men were clearly being led by a man who could only be Roman Torchwick. The master criminal was pretty lanky, and didn’t seem to be a skilled fighter, instead relying on trickery and guile to survive, but as Qrow always told him, appearances could be deceiving, and the criminal could be hiding a powerful semblance. 

“Are you robbing me?” Rouvin’s voice was cold and laced with amusement, and the criminal shivered at the icy tone, before he regained his nerve, and brandished his blade at the fifteen year old. 

“Course I am kid, so put your hands where I can see 'em!” Rouvin just tutted at the man, holding his weapon out like that was just sloppy, why brandish it? Rouvin could already see the weapon just fine, if he could even call the sword a weapon, one swing of Kauwela could probably destroy the cheap blade easily. Underneath his hood, Rouvin rolled his eyes in amusement, but that amusement turned into a cold anger, when the man reached up, and pulled Rouvin’s hood down.

At first glance, Rouvin Rose, looked like a normal teenager, a very tall, very handsome teenager, the argument could even be made that he, like his sister, was beautiful. Rouvin was a bit more in touch with his feminine side than other guys, his hair was long, reaching down to the base of his neck, it was mostly pushed back, and tied in a loose half ponytail, but a few strands of his hair, framed the sides of his face asymmetrically, being cut longer on the left end, his hair was a very unique shade as well, with the majority of it being a gorgeous raven black, dark as the night sky, but towards the roots of the hair were a vibrant red that no dye could ever replicate, but what was even more interesting was the hair that framed the sides of Rouvin’s face, started off black, but eventually faded to silver, not white, not grey, but silver. The Rose’s skin was paler than most people in Vale, contrasting nicely with his darker hair color and clothing choices, and his red eyeshadow coated his face as well, enhancing his more feminine charm, and his eyelashes were long and also particularly feminine. But the thing that ruined Rouvin’s appearance should have been the thing that enhanced it the most: his eyes, all six of them. 

Because tattooed or maybe even branded onto Rouvin’s face were two more pairs of eyes, making it look like he had six eyes in total. Two of his eyes were just the normal eyes that every person in the world possessed, glowing a beautiful, but sad silver color. But beneath those eyes were two more sets, each pair of eyes becoming progressively smaller, the tattoos seemed to have been done in silver ink, and almost seemed to glow, but there was something inherently unsettling about the tattoos, outside of the obvious.The shape of the tattooed eye was almost like the eyes of a snake, narrow and slit like. 

The criminal physically recoiled at the sight of the Rose’s face, and he quickly tried to step away, only to have a gloved hand smash right into his face. Rouvin just sighed as he followed up his jab with an uppercut to the man’s jaw, just like Qrow had taught him. Finishing off his basic string of attacks was a sharp kick, but with Rouvin’s height, and long legs, the criminal was sent flying, through the window, out of the shop, and into the street. 

Rouvin slowly walked out of the back of the store where he had been reading for almost an hour, Torchwick was looking at him in what looked to be disbelief, before he too recoiled at the sight of Rouvin’s face, the boy in question just rolled his real eyes, an action that seemed to repulse Torchwick even more, before breaking into a cloud of rose petals. “What are you waiting for?” Torchwick demanded, slamming his cane onto the floor, “Get him!” The criminal snapped, pointing toward the retreating cloud of rose petals.

Rouvin reformed outside of the store, throwing his hood back over his head, no need to be reminded that even criminals were disgusted by his appearance. Once his hood was back in place, Rouvin drew Kauwela from it’s sheath, the sword was longer than most, being four feet in total, long enough to be wielded as a great sword, but also short enough so that someone like Rouvin, could wield it with a single hand. Rouvin grinned when the criminals took a step back, here on the battlefield, he felt at peace, he wasn’t a freak, or a half-breed, he was a warrior, and he would soon run wild.

Rouvin slashed Kauwela horizontally and the wind rippled, before being sent out as a sharp blade towards the criminals. The men were clearly amateurs, and didn’t even have their aura unlocked, because they were sent back by the strike. Underneath his hood, Rouvin began to grin, Kauwela was truly a masterpiece, maybe even surpassing his precious Crescent Rose, it had taken him almost a year and a half to perfect the weapon, along with a lot of help from his uncle, and a lot of math and chemistry, but together they had managed to forge Kauwela as a hybrid sword, capable of switching between different types of dust. It didn’t sound like anything special, since people made dust weapons all the time, but Kauwela was different because it was a hybrid, as in it was made from an alloy of both dust and metal, to explain it in basic terms, unlike most dust weapons, Kauwela wouldn’t break, but it could still harness the elements. 

Rouvin closed his eyes and briefly inhaled and exhaled through his mouth, silver mist escaping into the night sky. Rouvin quickly adjusted his stance as the men got up again, ready to fight.  _ “Never lose focus.”  _ Rouvin fought in rhythm to his uncle’s voice, Qrow’s lessons coming back to him as he fought,  _ “These people will not care about you, or that you can’t use aura.”  _ Rouvin felt the small grin on his face grow as he fought, and pushed the men back, this was what he was born to do, this was part of his bloodline, he wasn’t sure why he knew that, but he just did. Rouvin flicked his wrist sharply, knocking a crude blade out of a goon’s hand. Rouvin slapped said goon with the flat of Kauwela’s blade, stunning the man, before punching him in the face, and finally kicking him in the groin. The other goons winced in sympathy, and Rouvin used that as a chance to turn into rose petals.

The criminals could only blink stupidly as two more of their men went down, picked off by a storm of rose petals, said petals condensed back into the boy they were fighting, and the last criminal charged Rouvin, trying to overwhelm the younger man with a flurry of attacks.

Rouvin for his part looked bored, openly yawning, before he put one hand behind his back, openly taunting the last criminal, encouraging him to make poor decisions. The man’s rage grew when Rouvin closed his eyes of all things, yet somehow the younger boy was still able to effortlessly predict and parry the criminals sloppy attacks, almost like he could see out of the tattoos.

Rouvin eventually took pity on the last criminal, grabbing his hand mid strike, and cutting it off, Kauwela cutting through the man’s appendage with ease. Rouvin winced at the sight of blood, the substance usually didn’t bother him, but tonight when he was in a more fragile state? It could prove to be troublesome.

“You are truly worth all that Lien that I paid for your services.” Torchwick strolled out into the street, tapping his cane against the road, a cigar hanging from his mouth, “Truly.” Rouvin’s grip on Kauwela tightened and he quickly sent out three blades of wind at the criminal.

Unlike his men, Torchwick did have aura, so rather than get sent back, the man just remained completely still, and not even his hair had gotten messed up from Rouvin’s attack. 

“Well Red, I have to apologize for cutting this short, but I’ve got places to be.” Torchwick aimed his cane at his younger opponent, and the end flicked open, revealing a simple scope. Rouvin felt his legs tense, but instead of dodging away from the criminal, Rouvin instead charged forward, breaking into rose petals, and sliding under Torchwick’s fiery blast. 

Rouvin reformed inside Torchwick’s guard, Qrow’s voice ringing inside his head again, _ “If you got the smaller weapon, then you gotta turn that disadvantage into an advantage, get inside their guard kiddo, use that speed of yours. And if they do hit you.” Qrow chuckled before he ruffled the eleven year old Rouvin’s hair, “Then they’re in for a nasty surprise.” _

Rouvin grinned, his ploy was working, Torchwick, with the smaller weapon, seemingly had the advantage, but the man fought with a cane, and lacked much true skill, he had survival instincts but not much else. But with the shorter weapon, Torchwick would have the advantage, he would eventually hit Rouvin, and because a cane wouldn’t kill in a single hit, Rouvin would be able to launch his counter attack, and hopefully finish the battle. 

Sure enough Rouvin’s prediction came true, Torchwick landed a nasty blow to Rouvin’s ribs, that would definitely bruise, but Rouvin had spent years without aura to protect him, he was used to getting hit, and bruising, but Torchwick, as a man with aura, he wouldn’t be. Rouvin smirked when his second semblance came into play. Torchwick doubled over in pain, as if HE were the one who had just been smacked in the ribs with a cane. Using the criminal’s distraction. Rouvin renched the criminal’s weapon from his grasp, and slammed him into the wall. Rouvin smiled and was about to call the police, only for his eyes to widen at the small red crystal held in Torchwick’s hand, a crystal, the man was about to shatter. Rouvin jumped back, propelling himself with his true semblance, turning into a cloud of petals.

He had underestimated Torchwick, the criminal had chosen to explode a crystal of fire dust in an attempt to escape. If Torchwick had survived the explosion and the building they had been standing by falling on him, then he was a genius, if he didn’t then he was an idiot.

Rouvin watched as a bullhead soared overhead, and somehow the boy with six eyes got the feeling that something much, much bigger had just been set in motion.

* * *

Rouvin wasn’t sure what set in motion meant to most people, but for him, that did not involve getting chained to a metal chair and getting interrogated by a school teacher that according to Qrow had a stick up her ass. Rouvin struggled against his handcuffs as Professor Goodwitch continued to lecture him on his recklessness and how his actions could have led to the endangerment of others. Sure the action didn’t really make him look responsible or innocent, but he needed to get out of the handcuffs, he just had to, it reminded him of those days.

“If it were up to me I would send you home with a pat on the back.” Goodwitch’s tone became slightly more gentle, before her eyes hardened again and she slammed her riding crop on the metal table, and action that like the last time she had done it had Rouvin flinching as he remembered days of labor, whips cracking, jeers of half-breed, and tainted rose to the forefront of his mind, “And a slap on the wrist.”

Rouvin’s breathing increased, as his struggling rose in intensity until it was something primal and animalistic, all rational thought left his mind, he just needed to get out of the damn handcuffs, “Fortunately there is someone else who wants to meet with you.” 

Rouvin wasn’t really sure if he was fortunate, especially when the person who entered the room was Professor Ozpin himself, but the six eyes boy decided to at least give the headmaster the benefit of the doubt when he freed Rouvin from the infernal handcuffs. Rouvin and the headmaster silently stared at each other in a strange sort of staring contest, each searching for something in the eyes of the other. Rouvin wasn’t really sure what he was looking for in the professor’s eyes, but he didn’t believe that he found it, instead he found himself looking into the eyes of someone too old and too tired, Rouvin saw those same eyes every day, he saw them in his uncle, and he saw them in his own eyes.

“Rouvin Rose.” Ozpin was the first to break the staring contest, taking a deep sip from his mug, “You have… silver eyes.” Rouvin stiffened up, thankful that he still had his hood up, somehow Ozpin knew what having silver eyes meant, something that not even Rouvin himself knew. Silver eyes, a trait that should not exist, but somehow did, and something about those with silver eyes was different than everyone else. They were something else, those who had silver eyes, something not quite human or faunus.

“What?” Rouvin asked, trying to remember everything that Qrow told him to do if Ozpin ever asked about his eyes, but his memory failed him, and now the boy was forced to improvise while also trying to talk to a teacher, it was every student’s worst nightmare.

“Tell me.” Ozpin pulled out a scroll, and showed Rouvin the footage from the attempted robbery, moments that Rouvin had just lived through, “Where did you learn to do all of this?”

“I learned from my family, sir.” Was Rouvin diplomatic reply, no wonder Ozpin was curious, Rouvin a homeschooled student, learning material that was two years ahead of what Signal would have taught him, “I’m homeschooled you see.” 

“I seem to recall someone who used a similar weapon to that sword of yours Mr.Rose, a bitter Raven.”

“You mean Yang’s mom.” Rouvin's voice became cold, and beneath his hood, all six of his eyes glowed slightly brighter, “I’m sorry, but I’ve never met her.” The lie fell from Rouvin’s lips easily, while he didn’t agree with the Branwen tribe or it’s leader, especially it’s leader, he did owe them, this way, his debt would be fulfilled. “I learned from my Uncle Qrow and my sister Yang.” 

“Well then Mr.Rose, I must ask: what will you do now?”

Rouvin frowned to himself, Ozpin seemed to be asking all the correct questions, almost as if he were expecting certain answers. But what could Rouvin do, the crossroads had not become clear yet, he had no sight, no way, no path, “I don’t know sir.” Rouvin brought a hand to his face and ran it through his sweaty hair, “I want to be a huntsman, but I won’t be able to attend an academy.”

“Why not?” Ozpin’s smile seemed to grow, and a light behind his eye seemed to twinkle. Rouvin wanted to scream at the headmaster for his latest question, why not? Like it was such an easy answer. 

“Because I have a… condition, I’m different than the people around me, people don’t like those that are different.” Rouvin muttered the last part darkly, his eyes glowing even brighter.

Ozpin’s eyes went back to his scroll, watching the moment that had him truly confused, Torchwick had hit Rouvin, but Torchwick was the one who reacted as if he were struck, while Rouvin had purposefully let himself get hit, seemingly so he could get the upper hand. It almost looked like a semblance, but Rouvin’s semblance was his speed, the boy had even admitted so to Glynda earlier. Ozpin watched again, and the answer soon became clear to him. “I assume you have two semblances Mister Rose?”

“How did-?” Rouvin stuttered, looking and sounding very scared, looking ready to bolt at the slightest noise.

“Ozpin what are you talking about?” Goodwitch slammed her riding crop down again, looking very confused, “A semblance is the product of one’s aura. Someone can’t just have two semblances.”

“I wish that were the case Glynda.” Ozpin paused to take another drink from his still steaming mug, “But sometimes, when one’s aura is unlocked in an extremely dangerous and traumatic event, the soul naturally realizes that one needs greater protection than just aura.”

Rouvin nodded, pulling his cloak tightly around his body, the way a child would a blanket, “Yes, but because a semblance is a product of aura and not aura itself, someone who unlocks a semblance this way, can train it the way others will aura, if that happens, they develop their true semblance, the one that they always should have had. The one they would have had, if the traumatic event had never happened.”

Rouvin growled to himself at the pitying looks he was given, there was a reason why he never told anyone about his semblances, he didn’t want, nor did he need pity. Pity wasn’t going to help him get stronger, pity was useless. Besides often those who pity the wretched, are the ones who sit by and let the suffering happen.

“Mr.Rose, you said that you wanted to attend an academy?” Ozpin’s eyes twinkled again, and the man seemed to be hiding a grin behind his mug. Rouvin felt his eyes widen, this couldn’t possibly be happening, could it?   
  


“Sir, you do realize that I’m only fifteen, I turn sixteen at the end of the Harvest Moon.”

“I see no problem, you are clearly skilled, and if you were truly trained by Qrow then you should have no trouble fitting in, he is quite the intense teacher.”

“Yeah he is.” Rouvin didn’t even try to fight the smile that was forming on his face, the crossroads had been revealed to him, and he had chosen his direction, there was no turning back now, his path was steady once again.

“Well then Mr.Rose I shall see you at the start of the year.” Ozpin leaned forward suddenly, “But one more thing, at Beacon we must know a student’s semblance, or in your case semblances in order to avoid any potentially dangerous situations.”

Rouvin nodded to himself, it made sense, afterall, putting Yang near dust would be an awful idea, she could easily burn down a classroom that way, “Well my true semblance is called Petal Burst, it lets me manipulate my velocity.”

“And the second?”

“My second semblance.” Rouvin felt his voice become shaky, and his throat become dry, he had only ever told Yang and Qrow about this, but this was for his dream, for his path, “My second semblance, is called Backbiter.” 


	2. The Girl on a Throne

Rouvin leaned back in his seat, crimson hood already pulled up, as he watched his future classmates with a mildly interested look on his face, like with the night he met Ozpin, Rouvin was looking for something in all of these teenagers, but once again, Rouvin wasn’t sure what it was that he was looking for. But whatever he was looking for, he didn’t find it in most of the other students, all of the other students looked green, like they hadn’t ever fought a Grimm before. Of course there were always exceptions, a dark haired girl, with amber eyes, and an ebony bow, that was as dark as her hair carried herself different than everyone else, she sat rigid, eyes dating all over the airship as if looking for potential attacks. And during the brief moment Rouvin made eye contact with her, he sensed a deep seated sadness within her, as if she had stared into the depths of the abyss, having already seen the worst the world had to offer. 

There was also a loud ginger girl with turquoise eyes, and a raven haired boy with magenta eyes and a similar magenta stripe in his hair. The boy was dressed as if he were from Mistral, but why he was attending Beacon instead of Haven was beyond Rouvin. The boisterous ginger girl looked like she might have been from Vale, or Mistral, but she talked as if she knew the silent boy, so Rouvin would assume she was from Mistral as well. Both the girl and the boy carried themselves slightly differently as well. The girl had a spark in her eyes that sung a tale of a zest for life, but she also just seemed very sad, as if she would be lost if she didn’t act happy. The magenta eyed boy hadn’t said a single word in response to his friend, only nodding or shaking his head in response to questions, but he too carried a deep melancholy within himself, Rouvin recognized the haunted look in the boy’s eyes, sometimes on particularly hard days, he saw it in the mirror. 

Rouvin idly brought a hand forward and began stroking the hilt of Kauwela, she had done a great job against Torchwick. Rouvin frowned at the thought of the criminal, police had searched the building, but there was no sign of the man’s body, so it looked as though he must have escaped, but he would most likely be out of commission for a while, even with aura exploding a burn crystal at point blank range, and having a building collapse on top of you would take some time to heal from. Hopefully with Torchwick out of commission for a while, the police could finally track down the man’s lair, based on what Rouvin had seen, Torchwick wasn’t an experienced fighter, he was clever and crafty for sure, but he lacked any true skill, and he would be injured, perfect conditions for the police to finally capture him. Rouvin continued to stroke Kauwela, the familiar grip of his weapon working wonders on the metaphorical butterflies in his stomach. Attending Beacon would definitely be an experience, it had been almost five years since he attended a formal school, so his daily work could easily be behind his peers, and of course he would have to manage to keep his condition a secret from everyone, maybe he could tell his partner, but that would most likely be it. It was already bad enough that Ozpin and all the teachers knew, but having his peers learn about it too would be nothing short of humiliating.

Rouvin kept stroking Kauwela while beneath his hood, his silver eyes wandered around the airship, looking for something interesting, the biggest piece of news had to do with the White Fang. Apparently a peaceful faunus protest had gotten broken up by the police, when the local authorities became too brutal in their suppression of the crowd, the White Fang burst onto the scene, attacking the police, and encouraging the protestors to join the Fang and fight against human oppression, the incident finally ended with several people both humans and faunus dead, with even more injured. Rouvin sighed through his nose, all the protest accomplished was aiding in the increase of the ever growing divide between humans and faunus, as it stood now? The only solution Rouvin saw was an all out war between the two races. Unless someone could somehow bridge the gap between the two races, there would never be peace. Rouvin wasn’t arrogant enough to think that he could be that person, he was a half-breed, cast off by both races, not enough human for one, too human for the other. As it stood, he had no place in the current world order. Rouvin rubbed his face with his hand, everyone has something that they find unacceptable, he certainly did. But currently neither humans or faunus were willing to accept each other, or those born from the union of a human and a faunus.

It was an interesting philosophical question, what does one do? Cut away that which is unacceptable? Or try and find a way to accept it? But real life is not a philosophy question, and people are not just stats or numbers, and each race needed an answer to the question, and they needed it quickly.

Rouvin met Yang’s eyes and gave his older sister a small smile and a nod, she was sitting a few seats away from him, talking to a few of her friends from Signal. Rouvin’s smile became sadder as he turned his face away from Yang, he would have liked to simply sit next to her, but Yang was a roaring and blazing fire, brilliantly bright. She deserved the best, and she wouldn’t get that by being near him, Rouvin, and the darkness in him, didn’t deserve to be around someone as pure as his older sister, he would just have to watch from the shadows, even though he was selfish, wanting to walk in the light despite being so undeserving. 

The boy with six eyes turned his face further away from his sister, ignoring the concerned glance that he was sure she was sending her way. She didn’t deserve to be burdened by his problems, not when she and Qrow had already sacrificed so much for him, he needed to be able to handle his own problems, especially when they weren’t truly problems at all, just him being a selfish bastard. The silver eyed boy closed his eyes, attempting to block out all the distractions on the airship. There were so many people talking, chatting with old friends from training schools like Signal, and some people were already attempting to branch out, finding new people to meet. Rouvin opened his eyes and glanced in the direction where the most noise was coming from, a line of students had formed, each student was holding something like a piece of paper, or a small statue, but some were even holding posters or shirts. At the front, or maybe the end of the line, was a tall red haired girl wearing ornate golden armor. The girl was signing each and every piece of merchandise, but she didn’t particularly look happy to do so, sure she had a pleasant smile on her face, but Rouvin considered himself an expert on the subject on fake smiles, and her smile was most definitely fake, instead of looking happy to see these people who clearly must have been fans, indeed, instead of looking happy, the girl looked trapped.

Rouvin hesitantly stood from his seat, the girl looked very uncomfortable with all of the people crowding her, and someone should have stepped in and given the poor girl some space, but no one looked like they were going to do anything so it looked like it would fall on him to correct that mistake. But there was something about the girl that caught Rouvin’s interest, she was clearly beautiful, anyone would be able to see that, and she carried herself with a quiet, but sad confidence that, a confidence that Rouvin wished that he possessed. But there was also something familiar about the girl, even though Rouvin was positive that he had never seen her before in his life. The six eyed boy pulled his cloak even tighter around his body, and lowered it even more, all while looking down to the floor, trying to hide his facial markings. 

“I can’t believe THE Pyrrha Nikos is attending Beacon!”

“She’s so amazing!”

“No doubt, she’ll be the best in the year!”

“I bet she’ll win the Vytal Festival singles tournament even if she’s only a first year!”

“Her partner will have such an easy time this year!”

The girl, who was apparently named Pyrrha just seemed to be getting more and more uncomfortable as praise was continually heaped onto her. Rouvin snorted at the sight, these students couldn’t be more pathetic in his eyes, looking at a girl, their age, as if she had hung the stars in the sky. The name Pyrrha Nikos was vaguely familiar to Rouvin, but he wasn’t really sure why it was familiar, or where he would have heard it from. 

Rouvin just shook his head again, bringing a gloved hand to his face as the crowd of students actually began pushing and shoving each other in order to get whatever they had signed, what was this Pyrrha girl? A celebrity? If she was, why was she at Beacon? “Hey that’s enough!” Rouvin called over to the crowd, but as a collective entity, they just rolled their eyes at him before they resumed pushing and shoving each other.

The silver eyed boy muttered a quick swear under his breath, before he reached up and pulled his hood down, showing his face to the world, “I said that’s enough!” Rouvin reluctantly surged forward, the crowd stepping back when they got a look at his face. Rouvin sighed internally at the reaction, he was hoping that maybe, at Beacon, things would be different, that maybe people would stop being repulsed by the slightest glance at his face, but it seemed that he was wrong. “I would go if I were you.” Rouvin didn’t turn to look at Pyrrha, the last thing he needed was for someone as beautiful as her to see his face. The red haired champion wordlessly nodded at her mysterious raven and crimson haired savior, before she blended into the crowd of other students. Rouvin rolled his eyes when the fanboys and fangirls started yelling at him, some looking ready to start throwing their merchandise, but a quick six eyed glare had the crowd practically running for their lives. Rouvin sighed before sitting himself down in the now empty part of the airstrip, why did he even try at this point? It was always the same old song and dance, he shows his face, people get disgusted and afraid, and he just eventually starts wearing his cloak and hood all the time. It happened at Signal, and now it was going to happen again at Beacon. 

“Brooding again Rouvin?” Yang’s voice was naturally cheery, unlike Rouvin’s whose voice was much more melancholy. But the concern in his usually happy sister’s voice could clearly be heard. 

“Something like that.” Rouvin agreed before running a hand through his already messy hair. The two siblings sat in a shared silence, both thinking about someone they wished could have seen this day, “Maybe I made a mistake.” Rouvin spoke his thoughts out loud, maybe Yang would have an answer for him, or at least some encouragement.

“We both know that isn’t true. This has been your dream for years, cub!”Yang slung an arm around her younger brother’s shoulder, “Besides don’t let a couple of assholes ruin your day. I’m so proud of you Rouvin. So is Qrow, and Mom would be too.”

“I guess so, I’m really happy to be at Beacon with you Yang.”

“Me too cub. Me too” Yang pulled her brother in closer for a one armed hug, the two siblings sat in silence again, but this time it was a much more comfortable silence, Rouvin’s eyes closed in content, and he reached up to hide his face again, only to stop when Yang gently brought his hands back down, proudly showing her brother’s face to the world. Yang perked up andher lilac eyes shone with mischief, “I can’t wait to introduce you to all my friends, cub. They’ll think you're the bee's knees!”

Rouvin sighed, one of his eyes opening to give Yang an unimpressed look, “The last thing I want to be is the bee’s knees.” Rouvin ignored the upset, almost hurt look on Yang’s face, he understood why she was upset, but couldn’t she see why he didn’t want to be anyone special? He was already different than the people around him, the last thing he needed was for that gap to grow even more. “I just don’t want people to think I’m anything special.”

“But you are special, cub.” Yang teased her younger brother, reaching up and ruffling her brother’s hair, messing up his raven locks even more. 

“Special? Or different?” Rouvin asked the age old question, was there really a difference between the two? He was definitely the latter, and people didn’t like the latter, so the last thing he needed to be was the former as well.

“Could you check Ember Celica when we get to Beacon?” Yang asked softly, trying to steer the conversation back to safer grounds. 

“Of course.” Rouvin closed his other eye once again, not even bothering trying to hide his face this time, Yang clearly wasn’t going to let him so what was the point?

“Thank you.” Rouvin raised an eyebrow, because he could almost hear the teasing grin on Yang’s face, “I don’t want there to be any problems with it during initiation, we wouldn’t want an  _ Arm _ ageddon now would we?” 

Rouvin just sighed, opening both of his eyes just so he could roll them at his sister. Yang meanwhile just howled with laughter, slapping her leg at the unimpressed look Rouvin gave her, “You’re lucky that you raised me. Because no one else would even stand for that pun.” Yang just laughed even harder. And eventually Rouvin joined in. Leaning his head on Yang’s shoulder, the two siblings enjoying a quiet moment of solitude together. Rouvin and Yang remained sitting together until the airship finally landed, and the doors finally slid open revealing Beacon to the new students. Rouvin and Yang stood up together, and walked out of the airship side by side, ready to start the next step of their journey, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's the second chapter, not much for me to really say about it either, right now I'm mostly just revising the chapters, and trying to add a little more content
> 
> Though I guess you guys should know that Ruby isn't the only character who is going to be genderbent, I'm not going to say who else is though, you'll just have to wait and see.


	3. The Hunter of Hunters

The Land of Darkness was a desolate and dead place, no living thing could flourish there. Life could not persevere in the Land of Darkness, it was the cold that consumed all warmth, the silence that devoured all speech, the void that consumed all aura. And the darkness in which all life died. Pools of a tar like liquid covered the land, and bursting out of the pools were fully formed, albeit young Grimm. While different in most ways, all Grimm shared two key similarities, one they were soulless, unable to use aura and lacking intelligence, and two, they were eager and bloodthirsty, ready to do their queen’s bidding. 

The queen was a bit of a mystery to her subjects, someone they obeyed without hesitation, but when the Grimm were alone, sent to the strange land of Remnant, they spoke to each other in their silent language about their ruler. The queen herself resided in the Evernight Castle, the fortress looming over the Land of Darkness, situated directly in the center of the desolate land, and watching over the land like some strange and twisted scarecrow of the nether. The castle was dark, there was no other way to describe it than darkness given shape, and inside the darkness, the queen was holding court.

Salem lounged on her twisted throne with the grace of a queen, and she sat so still that it was almost as if she weren’t even breathing, giving off the appearance of a very, very life like statue of a goddess, ironic given her past. Seated around the obsidian dining table were the unique individuals that made up the queen’s court: Arthur Watts, the disgraced Atlesian scientist and genius eccentric. Hazel Rainart, resident behemoth, and the member of the court with the largest grudge against Ozpin, second to only the queen herself. Then there was Tyrian Callows, and calling the scorpion faunus insane was doing him a favor, Tyrian was unhinged to the highest degree, relishing in the pain and death he caused, all in service of his “goddess.” Finally there was Cinder Fall, the first person in history to steal half of a maiden’s power, and currently the most important piece on the board. Salem frowned, breaking her statue-like appearance as she regarded her court, she considered herself a patient woman, one had to be patient in order to scheme for millennia, all so she could finally rest in peace. But even her patience had limits, and Cinder was already testing it, the first phase of Salem’s plan to acquire the Relic of Choice would have to be put on hold, because of a boy of all things, a silver eyed boy. 

The court remained silent as their queen remained in deep thought, while Roman Torchwick was nothing more than a pawn, in a game, played by a genuine chessmaster, he was needed for the first phase of Salem’s plan. And with him injured, the White Fang wouldn’t have enough dust to attack Beacon, giving Cinder the opportunity needed to acquire the second half of the Fall Maiden powers, and more importantly, the Relic of Choice. Salem would need a replacement, waiting for Torchwick to recover would just give Ozpin more time to discover her plans, and Salem could not afford to let that happen. Salem could always just let Taurus and the White Fang steal the dust themselves, but the White Fang was too obvious, they lacked the subtlety that Torchwick possessed. Watts would be almost useless in this kind of endeavor, besides Salem needed her bishop to start devising his virus that would hack Ironwood’s toys. Hazel and Tyrian also lacked the subtlety needed, and both were wanted and notorious criminals, and both were assumed dead, Salem couldn’t afford for the world to know of their survival, especially with Hazel’s grudge against Ozpin. Salem and the two children that followed her around were out of the question, they were out posing as students at Haven, they couldn’t blow their cover. 

The queen raised a finger, and all eyes in the room focused on her, “We cannot allow a minor inconvenience such as this set us back.” Salem’s voice was calm and graceful, radiating power and authority, and every being in the room listened to each and every word that fell from her lips, as if their lives depended on it, “Cinder.” Salem turned to face the half maiden, and the girl paled before plastering a look of fake reverence on her face as she faced her queen, “You have proven yourself to be worthless, unable to accomplish the simple task that I gave you.” Ir was true, despite having an illusionist and a special Grimm of Salem’s own design, Cinder had only been able to steal a portion of Fall Maiden’s power, and Salem was forced to edit her plan in order to give Cinder time to take the remaining power. And then the pawn that Cinder had chosen, was taken out of commission by a silver eyed boy, it was clear to Salem that Cinder would prove unable to accomplish her goal on her own, she had been given two chances and she had failed both of them, Salem would unfortunately have to give her girl some aid, access to one of her own special experiments. 

“My queen?” Cinder paled, before crying out in pain, Salem let out a cruel chuckle as Cinder’s powers, the very thing she had been trying to steal for years, suddenly turned against her. Once again, Salem was forced to question the intelligence of Cinder Fall, she had only managed to steal a portion of the maiden powers because of a Grimm, but she hadn’t even stopped to consider that Salem controlled Grimm, and therefore, Salem controlled Cinder’s power.

“Tyrian.” Salem’s voice was extremely calm and even casual as she addressed the scorpion faunus, ignoring Cinder’s anguished cries of pain, a sight that had Watt’s chuckling in appreciation, Tyrian perked up and began bouncing in his seat in excitement at being addressed by the queen, “Fetch me my knight.”

Tyrian shot up like an arrow, and practically bolted out of the room, desperate to please the thing that had once been human, the being that he considered to be a goddess. “Now tell me Arthur.” Salem addressed the disgraced scientist, “What do Ozpin’s pawns derive strength from.”

Watts was silent as he pondered his queen’s question, before an ugly sneer appeared on his face, “The soul.” The scientist’s answer came out as an angry growl, still remembering the feeling of rage when James chose Pietro’s toy soldier over his designs.

Salem actually tilted her head at the answer, one she wouldn’t have expected Watts of all people to have, but it was a fairly correct one, if not the answer she was looking for, “Not quite.” Salem stood from her throne, almost sounding like a teacher giving a lecture to students, “Life’s greatest strength is its ability to derive strength from even the smallest of things. Things such as hope.” The queen’s voice turned dark and her red eyes ominously glowed brighter, “Which is why, I devote all of my strength to snuffing that hope out.” 

Salem paused in her speech when Tyrian returned, and with a newcomer to boot, the stranger must have been Salem’s so called knight. Cinder leaned closer, curious to see what help her queen would be giving her, only to recoil in disgust and horror at what she saw, because what she was looking at was Wrong!  _ Wrong!  _ **Wrong!** **_WRONG!_ **

Cinder paled and violently shook, as her heart tried to escape her body through her throat, from a distance the being might have been confused for a human and a faunus, she, at least it seemed to be a she based on the petite build, hips, and chest, stood very still and almost seemed like a statue, but once one got a good look at her, they were immediately assaulted by an overwhelming sense of dread, and fear.

Her skin was pale, sickly, translucent, and most importantly it was dead. Cinder knew for a fact that it was dead, only skin that was close to rotting looked like hers, but the rotting skin was smooth and unblemished. Her veins were not the varying shades of purple and blue that humans or faunus possessed, but a ashen shade of black, she stood unnaturally still, but she was most definitely breathing, long and wheezing breaths, each one seemingly causing her immense pain, and small silver puffs of smoke appeared from her mouth whenever she exhaled from it. Her hair at one point might have been a beautiful raven black, but now it was washed out, lacking any true sheen, parts of her hair were grey and also seemed to be washed out, but the grey didn’t seem to have been brought on by age or stress, or dye, instead the grey, like all of her, was very unnatural. And her eyes, glowing a malicious yellow, reminding Cinder of the nightmares that once haunted her dreams. Slung over the woman’s shoulder was an ornate crimson and ebony bow, and tied to the back of her waist was a quiver full of arrows, and sheathed at the woman’s side was a sword that radiated a sinister and destructive aura. And completing the woman off, resting atop the woman’s head was a pair of wolf ears, like her hair the ears were seemingly bleached of their color. She looked like a faunus, she had to be a faunus, and yet, she was so  _ wrong, wrong wrong _ , Cinder felt a scream building up in her throat the longer she looked at the  **thing** that somehow existed.

“What is it?” Hazel asked the question everyone was thinking, the giant man’s voice shook with awe, and fear as he looked at the being, when he looked at her out of the corner of his eye, she almost looked like a regular person, a very, very young person, because in spite of all of her monstrous and ghostly traits, the girl was extremely young, she didn’t look like she could have been older than twenty-seven years old, and she was so small, not looking to stand over five feet, five inches tall, though perhaps she seemed shorter than she really was, because of the heavy black cloak that covered her entire body, except for her face.

Watts stood up from his seat, getting closer and closer to the thing, Salem’s knight, it was fascinating, it seemingly mimicked life perfectly, but there was no way that this thing was alive. Watts inched even closer to the being, and laid a hand across her chest, searching for a heartbeat, only to draw his hand back when he couldn’t find one, not only that, her skin was shockingly cold, like her body wasn’t supplying it’s own heat.

“She is the first to transcend.” Salem spoke, her voice quiet, but her entire court heard her easily, the queen moved over to her greatest experiment, her truest success, the first being outside of her and Ozma that proved that the gods were not all powerful, they did not control all. “She is my greatest creation. She has been preserved for a few years now. Magnificent, isn’t she?”

Cinder couldn’t open her mouth to speak, not trusting herself to say a word, Hazel remained silent as well, but he was pale and sweat was running down his face, even Watts seemed to be struck dumb at the sight of the  **thing** that was standing before them. Only Tyrian seemed unfazed by it all, staring at the being in awe, giving her a look of adoration that he usually reserved for Salem herself. The insane faunus reached over, and with surprising gentleness and tenderness stroked the being’s face, only to be forced to stop when the being  **moved** all on its own, grasping Tyrian’s hand in her own, and effortlessly twisting it, snapping the faunus’s wirst. Instead of screaming out in pain, or raging, Tyrian just laughed and looked at his broken wrist with reverence.

“I believe her long sleep has left her disoriented.” Salem explained, calm on the outside, but on the inside? Even the Grimm Queen was concerned by what she saw, she had assumed that she had managed to fully strip her knight of her free will, she had been working on Fenris for almost a decade at this point, with the last five years being fully devoted into making Fenris a mindless slave, but even now, she somehow managed to resist her complete control, was it because of her bloodline? “Being resettled into the living world should make her settle down.”

**“...YyoOouU…”** Cinder toppled out of her seat, somehow it had  **spoken** , Salem had been explaining something about the being, and then all on her own, she had spoken, this  **thing** wasn’t a Grimm that just looked like a faunus, it broke Tyrian’s wrist, and then spoke…

  
Spoke. Her voice was distorted unnaturally, human, but it also wasn’t human, in such a way, that her words were drawn out longer than necessary, yet she didn’t seem to have any control over her way of speech. The being stared at Cinder for a moment, searching for something, but she didn’t seem to find what she was looking for… or perhaps she had? Because soon, she released a raspy, hissing, twisted noise, that Cinder slowly began to realize was a sound of mocking laughter,  **_“...yYoOoOuUu… lItTllEe… fFOoLlL…”_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this chapter is all about the villains, and the nefarious schemes that they are undoubtedly plotting, and it also introduces the one and only major OC of this entire story, and most likely all of PWRY: Fenris.
> 
> Now I understand that OCs are a major deal breaker for a lot of people, myself included. I really don't like OCs, yet here I am making one, but all I ask you guys to do, is give Fenris a chance.


	4. The Girl with Ice in Her Veins

Beacon Academy was most definitely an architectural masterpiece, sporting a classical design from a time not so long past, back from when the kingdom of Vale, had gone by the name of Valentia. Beacon had been the last king of Valentia’s final gift to his people, the King of Liberation, had the foresight to realize that there would always be threats to peace, and without a king requiring an army, Vale would be defenseless. So he had Beacon Academy built, to serve as a school for Vale’s next generation of warriors. The ones who would fight not as soldiers, but as huntsmen and huntresses, keeping the peace, and slaying Grimm. Now, if the legends and stories were true, the King of Liberation had been buried either underneath Beacon, or somewhere within the school itself, and according to even more stories, the crown that served as Vale’s coat of arms, the crown worn by every ruler of Valentia was also buried with the King of Liberation, so that kings and queens would remain dead, a relic of the past. 

Several of the incoming students paused as soon as they stepped out of the airship, stopping to stare at the legendary school in awe. Rouvin walked out of the airship, eyes squinted against the midafternoon sunshine, the six eyed boy reached behind his shoulders to bring his hood up once again, only to sigh when Yang once again refused to let him hide his face. The silver eyed youth could understand that Yang, unlike everyone else, wasn’t revolted by his appearance, but she was an exception, not the rule, and it would just be better for everyone if he just kept his head down, and hidden, and away from prying eyes. While the sight of his dream school did pacify Rouvin somewhat, the fifteen year old was still immensely worried, rationally he knew that eventually he would have to show his face, but he also wasn’t ready for that day to be today. 

A few feet ahead from the two siblings was the group of friends that Yang had originally been sitting with, a group of girls who all went to Signal. Rouvin wasn’t sure who most of them were, the only name that really stuck out to him was a girl named Thalia, she was the only faunus in Yang’s friend group, wielding a lance infused with lightning dust, and a semblance that let her play some pretty epic pranks involving static electricity. Rouvin saw the slightly impatient looks on the faces of Yang’s friends, the Rose sighed before tilting his head slightly forward, “Just go ahead.” 

“Are you sure?” Yang didn’t even bother trying to dance around the question, better to just flat out ask Rouvin what he felt, or what he wanted. Yang watched as her brother’s gaze drifted to his left forearm, even though Yang couldn’t physically see which tattoo he was thinking of, she had a pretty good idea, because Rouvin was looking exactly where the red skull tattoo was, he was thinking about their mom.

“ ʻAʻole makaʻu ʻo Māmā, ʻaʻole hiki iaʻu kekahi.” The words from the language of his ancestor’s slipped from Rouvin’s lips easily, it was a habit he possessed ever since he was young, whenever he spoke about their mom, Rouvin would slip into the tongue of their mother’s family. Yang wasn’t really sure why he did it, maybe because it was one of the few things he had besides his physical appearance that connected him to Summer Rose? 

“Alright then, see you in the auditorium cub.” Yang soon broke into a light jog in order to catch up with her friends, the Rose just remained where he was, enjoying the view of the Emerald Forest stretched out before him. The forest was absolutely massive, and as it’s name suggested, completely covered with trees that remained green all year round, but what was so interesting about the trees in the Emerald Forest was that not a single one was an evergreen, instead the trees somehow managed to stay green all year round, even when they should have changed colors in accordance with Autumn. The Emerald Forest also served as a direct counterpart to the Forever Fall Forest, where the trees somehow managed to have leaves that were yellow, brown, orange, and red all year round. In fact, both forests were so famous that together they made the list for top 5 tourist destinations in Vale.

The sound of vomiting was what broke the Rose from his tranquil thoughts, and the smell that soon accompanied the sounds of groaning and retching quickly had Rouvin hurrying after his fellow school mates. However he was forced to stop when he realized that he didn’t know where to go. Yang had said something about an auditorium, but he had been so interested in the Emerald Forest that most of the students were gone. “Where’s the auditorium?” Rouvin vocalized his thoughts despite being alone, maybe someone would take pity on him, “Is it by the dorms? Don’t we need to drop our stuff off at the dorms? Do we even have dorms?” 

The saying slow down before you hurt yourself doesn’t really apply to someone with a speed semblance, once they have enough control over their extreme speed the user is often able to react faster than others can think, allowing them to avoid collisions. So naturally Rouvin somehow managed to run into someone while walking, while walking in circles, all while talking to himself. Rouvin felt himself tumble backwards, and end up flat on his back, it really wasn’t so bad, sure the fall stung, and he would end up feeling pain later on, but while laying flat on his back, he could really appreciate the beauty of nature once again, the sky was remarkably blue, and clouds were actually visible, if there was one thing Rouvin missed about living on Patch, it was the life all around him, why people focused so much on industrializing, and cities was beyond him. Why focus on things like tall skyscrapers? When there was so much beauty in the natural world all around them? “Excuse me!” a pale white haired girl suddenly leaned into Rouvin’s vision. 

* * *

The six eyed boy recognized her immediately. Pale skin? Check. White hair? Check. Glacier blue eyes? Check. Arrogant air, Atlesian accent, and holier than thou attitude? Check. Check. And check? “You need to watch where you’re going!” scratch the hesitation out of his last point, definitely check on the holier than thou attitude. This girl could only be a Schnee, and there was only one Schnee that she could be, Weiss Schnee, the girl that made Yang’s favorite music. Getting to his feet was an easy task, but staring Weiss Schnee in the eyes was not, the girl was almost comically short, and Rouvin easily towered over her. Surprisingly, Schnee didn’t immediately flinch at the sight of the boy with six eyes, instead she merely raised an eyebrow condescendingly and muttered the word ‘degenerate’ under her breath. Sure it was cold, and needlessly rude, but it was a far better reaction than Rouvin was used to, so that was win, “Do you have any idea how much damage you could have caused!”

And the Schnee was shrieking again, wonderful, “ inaina wau i koʻu ola i kēia manawa.” Rouvin murmured the tribal words to himself, running a hand through his messy raven locks of hair. What were the chances that out of all the people in Beacon that he, a half faunus, could have run into. The one single person was Weiss Schnee? As in the SDC, the largest producer of dust in Remnant, and the company known for their racist and bigoted attitudes towards anything that didn’t follow Atlas’s standards of decency. 

“Are you brain dead or something?” Schnee demanded again, Rouvin looked around trying to figure out why the short girl was so angry at him, sure he had accidentally ran into her. Accidentally! But that shouldn’t have been enough for her to start screeching at him, for a girl who had such a beautiful singing voice, she sure could screech. “Or are you just primitive? At least speak Atlesian!” The last comment was particularly offensive, Atlas’s arrogance had no bounds, thinking that just because they supplied the rest of Remnant with dust that all the kingdoms should speak their language. In some ways it helped, kingdoms like Mistral, where the culture varied region to region, had so many languages that using Atlesian as a common language that everyone spoke certainly made things simpler, but at the same time, Vale’s own language practically had disappeared, and Mistralian families only spoke their languages to each other. As for Vacuo? Well they didn’t particularly care, but it wouldn’t be Vacuo if they suddenly cared about such trivial things like language, the people of the desert had their own lifestyle, where survival mattered much more than lineage, or language. 

“Do you even know what this stuff is?” Schnee started yelling again, cutting off whatever the hell Rouvin was going to say. The answer to Weiss’s question was a most definite yes. Rouvin wasn’t stupid, or as Weiss Schnee so elequently put it, brain dead. He knew what dust was, and he, like anyone with half a brain cell knew that dust was highly reactive, and when disturbed, the reaction was usually explosive. There was a reason why people didn’t experiment with dust types outside of the kinds that could be found naturally. Sure theoretically one could combine two compatible types of dust together to form a new kind, but balancing out the exact quantities of each dust required, all while trying to prevent an explosion, deterred all but the most determined scientists from truly experimenting with fusing dust. So with all of that in mind, why the heiress to the SDC was waving a leaking vial of burn dust in his face was beyond Rouvin. Was Weiss Schnee stupid? Did she not realize that her precious dust was leaking out into the air as she raged? Why was Weiss Schnee even at Beacon in the first place? She was a singer, a talented one. Though Rouvin didn’t particularly care for classical music, he was more of a rock type of guy thank you very much. 

“What do you think I am? An idiot?” The red reaper asked, sounding particularly offended at the suggestion that he didn’t even know what dust was. Who did this upper class daddy’s girl think she was? Asking him if he knew what dust was. Kauwela was a physical specimen of a sword, and she sported a rotary dust chamber to boot, allowing him to quickly sheath then redraw his blade. Weiss just leveled the Rose with a cold glare, suggesting that she did in fact think of him as an idiot. “Wow harsh.” Rouvin snarked before dramatically placing a gloved hand over his chest, allowing it to rest when it lay directly over his heart, “You’ve wounded me my lady. It’s mortal I tell you, I’m never going to recover from this.”

“You-you dolt!” The SDC heiress stamped a heeled foot onto the ground in anger, shaking the clenched vial of burn dust in fury, her usual composure gone, and her anger existed as a palpable chill, “This is dust. Mined, cut and refined, by the SDC.” Weiss accented every single word with a shake of the dust vial, and with each and every shake of the vial, a cloud of burn dust gradually rose between the heiress and the reaper. Rouvin felt his eyes begin to water as the dust tickled his nose. The six eyed boy tensed his legs, ready to propel himself back with the aid of his semblance, a dust explosion like this could end up killing him because he couldn’t use his aura defensively, and imagine how embarrassing that would be, didn’t even make it to initiation, or even the damn auditorium. Eventually all the dust just became too much for the reaper to handle, and so, with a single mighty sneeze, Rouvin expelled all the dust, simultaneously turning into a cloud of rose petals, propelled by the explosion, and his jump, Rouvin quickly lost control of his velocity. Condensing back into a person, a very distorted person.

“YOU DOLT!” Rouvin sighed at the sound of the SDC heiress’s voice, the cloud of smoke still hadn’t settled, yet he could hear the clicking of her heels against the stone ground. “We could have died!” the reaper groaned to himself when Weiss finally came into view, oh the lecture he was going to end up getting. This wasn’t even his fault, HE hadn’t been the one to wave a vial of leaking dust into someone else’s face. Who even does that anyway? It’s bad taste, everyone knows that.

“pepehi iaʻu, e ʻoluʻolu” the silver eyed boy’s hand trailed to his left forearm, brushing against where his skull tattoo was hidden by his jacket, the weather had been quite chilly lately, despite it only being early Autumn, by all accounts he should have been able to wear short sleeves and jeans, but the weather just didn’t want to cooperate. 

“What was Ozpin thinking, inviting someone like YOU, to a school as prestigious as BEACON?” That comment snapped Rouvin back to reality. The Rose’s hands trailed down to his side before clenching tightly into fists. Six eyes, two real, and four tattooed looked down to said clenched fists. Rouvin looked back up to glare at the SDC heiress, only to blink in confusion when Weiss took a hesitant step back. Because unbeknownst to the reaper, for only a moment his eyes had changed, flashing from a luminous silver, to a solid white. But then the moment passed, and the sparkling silver eyes were back, and Weiss was left questioning whether or not she was simply seeing things, it must have just been a trick of the light.

“Look  _ Princess _ .” The word was spat out like a terrible insult, the fifteen year old’s voice containing deep venom, “I worked just as hard as anyone else to get here today! And I won’t have some spoiled daddy’s girl, who’s never had to work for anything in her life, try and take that from me!” Weiss briefly flinched at the assessment that was not at all true! She had worked so hard to even convince Jacques to let her be a huntress, and that’s not even getting started on attending Beacon and not Atlas. Weiss opened her mouth, ready to defend herself, but her opponent wasn’t done yet, “You can call me whatever you like: dolt, idiot, moron. But I wasn’t the dumbass who was waving a leaking dust vial in someone’s face.”

“It’s heiress actually.” a new voice joined the heated conversation. Rouvin quickly recognized this girl, he saw her on the airship. The girl with dark skin, ebony hair, piercing amber eyes, and an ebony bow that unless Rouvin was mistaking had just  _ twitched _ , “Weiss Schnee, heiress to the Schnee Dust Company, the largest supplier of dust on all of Remnant.”

“Finally some proper recognition.” Weiss’s glacier blue eyes shone with pride at the recognition of the company she was set to take over. But she failed to notice what Rouvin did, this dark haired black beauty, spoke with no emotion in her voice whatsoever, either this girl was very good at concealing her emotions, or she honestly couldn’t care less about the SDC or Weiss.

“The same company that’s notorious for their terrible working conditions, and questionable business practices.” The girl tagged on, a small semblance of a smirk forming on the edges of her lips. Rouvin felt a smirk form on the one end of his face, this girl was alright.

“You might not want that recognition here in Vale, Schnee.” Rouvin tagged on, his voice friendly and his eyes bright, until the light in his eyes was extinguished, and any friendliness in his voice faded away, “Not all of us here in Vale think the Schnees are the best thing to happen. Especially the faunus.” Rouvin tagged on the last part, waiting for the dark haired beauty’s reaction, sure enough, her bow twitched again, and she seemingly noticed Rouvin for the first time. The black haired beauty studied Rouvin for a moment, before her piercing amber eyes focused on Rouvin’s unique hair and eye color, the girl paled and disappeared without saying another word, leaving a confused Rouvin, and a raging Weiss Schnee behind. Weiss was quick to leave as well, storming off, but not before giving Rouvin a pamphlet on how to properly handle dust. A pamphlet that the Rose took great pleasure in ripping to pieces before flipping off the retreating form of Weiss Schnee. 

* * *

Alone once again, Rouvin finally pulled his hood over his head, enjoying the silence. That experience had been a migraine and a half, and he was still no closer to finding the auditorium. The Rose just stayed sitting by himself, in solitude, until a hand reached out towards him. Rouvin hesitantly grasped the hand in his own gloved hand, noticing how rough and calloused it was, just like his own. Rouvin pulled himself to his feet with the help of the stranger, who turned out to be not exactly a stranger. The reaper found himself face to face with a six feet tall, red haired, and emerald eyed champion. The girl was clearly from Mistral, since her armor was Mistralian in design, though it almost seemed unnecessarily elaborate. This was the same girl that Rouvin had helped out on the airship, the girl who had been getting swarmed by hands. Tied at the girl’s waist was a red sash, and slung over her back was a sword and a shield, each looking well crafted and cared for. Rouvin felt a teasing smirk form on his face as his own silver eyes stared into the girl’s own emerald orbs, “Is it your turn to save me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Rose family in this story is inspired by Polynesia, and I'm using Hawaiian as a stand in for their language, so sometimes, like in this chapter, Rouvin will slip into a second language.
> 
> Translations (in order that they appear in)  
> 1: Mom wasn't afraid, I can't be either.  
> 2: I hate my life right now  
> 3: Kill me, please
> 
> I also started a discord server, if anyone is interested in joining, the link is just down below 
> 
> https://discord.gg/4UCWE77haT


	5. The Boy with a Dream

Pyrrha took a reflexive step back, her face turning a shade of red, not incomparable to her hair. What were the odds that the first person she would run into once she was off the airship, has also been the person who helped her on the airship? The young man standing before her was almost otherworldly, his pale skin glowed luminously, as if the broken moon was shining down on him, he was tall as well, standing as tall as Pyrrha herself, from what she could see of his face, his hair was a gorgeous raven black, dark as the night sky, though framing the sides of his face, his hair faded to grey, no not grey, silver. And certain strands of hair were strangely a crimson red of all colors, though curiously, all shades of his hair seemed to be natural, and it didn’t seem that he had dyed it in any way. And his eyes, by the gods his eyes. They were like liquid silver, glowing with an otherworldly light, two bright, shining orbs, glowing like stars in the night sky. Pyrrha couldn’t get the best look at his face however, what with the red cloak obscuring most of it, and there was the fact that for some reason, her mysterious savior was seemingly avoiding eye contact, always looking at anything other than her face. Though Pyrrha could have sworn that she had glimpsed what seemed to be a tattoo, or maybe even a brand on his face, it had just been a brief glimpse, and a quick flash of silver, so perhaps it was simply his eyes, but the champion swore that she had seen something strange on his face.

Her mysterious savior also seemingly had a liking for the color black, and almost gave off Gothic vibes. He wore a black leather jacket, over a black T-shirt, with a grey rose inscribed in the center, black slightly ripped jeans covered his legs, and a black leather belt held a few dust bullets, and resting at his side was a sheath that also served to function as a dust chamber. Covering his hands was a pair of leather gloves, inscribed with the same grey rose that was on his shirt, and finishing off the look was a pair of steel toed combat boots, a red cloak tied to his neck, and a subtle touch of a garnet red eyeshadow. Needless to say, Pyrrha’s mysterious savior from the airship was gorgeous in ways that other boys their age simply weren’t, Pyrrha wasn’t sure what it was about him, maybe it was his sharp facial features, or the silver eyes, lightly dusted with eyeshadow, or maybe it was even the teasing smirk on his face, but this boy just possessed a feminine charm to him, and rather than detract from his attractiveness, it enhanced it, making him gorgeous and beautiful, something that other boys just couldn’t claim, they were handsome sure, but this boy, he was beautiful in ways that other boys just weren’t. 

The four time champion suddenly realized that she was staring, and turned an even brighter shade of red, meeting the gaze of the boy who had captured her attention, only to find an eyebrow raised in amusement, and an even brighter shine to his silver eyes, as the teasing smirk on his face became even larger, “Saw something that you like huh?” Pyrrha felt herself want to die from embarrassment, but by the gods his voice, it was surprisingly quiet for someone as tall as he was, and it also carried with it an indiscernible accent. It didn’t sound like any accent the Mistralian champion had ever heard before, but Atlesian clearly wasn’t his first language, or he simply spoke a foreign language frequently? Now that Pyrrha thought about it, the young man in front of her didn’t really seem to fit into any of the kingdoms, he definitely wasn’t from Vacuo, and his skin was also paler than anyone in Vale had. His accent clearly ruled Atlas out of the equation, and his accent didn’t remind the Invincible Girl of any languages from Mistral. But despite his words, Pyrrha could tell that he was just joking, his voice, even with the odd accent lacked any sort of arrogance or pride at his own appearance, instead it sounded quite sad, melancholy even.

“I-I wasn’t- I didn’t mean anything by it- I’m sorry.” To any outside observer, the situation would be jaw dropping, Pyrrha Nikos, the four time tournament champion, the Invincible Girl, or whatever the hell the nicknames that they were calling her these days. Rendered completely and utterly speechless by a boy, and not just any boy, here she was, completely defeated by a pretty face. Because, he certainly was pretty, prettier than many girls that Pyrrha knew from Sanctum. The star tournament fighter closed her emerald eyes, taking a deep breath and putting her professional mask on, that she could work with, for once, being forced to be someone else would come in handy, because tournament champion Pyrrha Nikos, would not be defeated by just another pretty face, “I’m sorry, let me start again, I’m Pyrrha Nikos.”

Beacon’s courtyard, which had been silent, save for the small chatter between the two hopeful students suddenly picked up in noise. The wind, which had been blowing steadily suddenly picked up in intensity, whipping around the end of Rouvin’s cloak, and blowing his hood back, revealing the entirety of his face to the Invincible Girl. Pyrrha felt her eyebrows rise at the sight, his hair was longer than most guys let their hair grow out to, pulled into a half ponytail, and ending at the base of his neck. More of his hair, especially near the tips was the crimson red color, giving him an odd ratio of black to red hair, almost one red hair for every two black hairs, but the red was so focused towards the tips of his hair that it was harder to notice it, and instead most of his hair seemed to be the raven shade of black. But what really stood out to the tournament champion was the fact that Rouvin did indeed have something tattooed to his face, two separate pairs of eyes of all things, making it look like he had six eyes. Stranger still was the fact that the tattooed eyes were slit like, resembling a serpent more than anything human. His previous teasing smirk was gone, replaced with a resigned look, and one of his eyebrows was raised in a cold challenge, daring her to say anything about his abnormal appearance. 

But when all that happened was the four time champion extending her hand for a friendly handshake, the cold look on Rouvin’s face and in his eyes faded away to a weary, but still hopeful smile, taking Pyrrha’s hand in his own, the reaper was once again struck by how calloused it was, only people with tons of training or experience had hands like that, so she must have trained a lot, and she fought with a sword and shield, both were classic weapons, and usually looked down on in the day and age of mechashift and dust weapons, but hey no point in reinventing the wheel, besides swords and shields were tried and true, there was no true experimentation needed, no risk. “Rouvin.” the two teens exchanged a firm handshake before both returned their hands awkwardly to their sides, “Rouvin Rose.”

Maybe the meeting between the two prodigies was fate, maybe it was destiny, or maybe it was simply the result of Rouvin’s decision to sit down on the ground after dissing Weiss Schnee. But regardless of why the two met, the moment was not to last, at least not alone, “Uhh excuse me?” The fifteen year old, and the seventeen year old both turned around to find themselves face to face, with a blonde haired, blue eyed boy, about their own height. His outfit seemed to be a strange mix of Rouvin’s and Pyrrha’s, in that it was an odd assortment of armor and civilian clothing, and his golden blonde hair, while longer than most boys, was nowhere near Rouvin’s hair length. It was certainly strange for Pyrrha, seeing these two boys side by side, they seemed to be total opposites, and even without knowing either one, she could tell that they were nothing alike. “I was wondering if you knew where we needed to go. I’m Jaune Arc by the way, short, sweet, rolls of the tongue, and the ladies love it.”

“Do they?” Rouvin deadpanned, and Pyrrha almost broke out laughing at the sight, these two boys were so different, while everything about Rouvin’s appearance was extraordinary, Jaune was plain in all the best ways, Rouvin was dark, while Jaune was so bright. Jaune seemingly wore his emotions on his sleeve, while the Rose was closed off and weary. And while both seemingly had a tendency to flirt and tease, Rouvin seemed to simply be looking for a reaction, and because he seemingly found amusement in the behavior. While Jaune genuinely looked like he was trying to flirt with her. And while Jaune was handsome, he wasn’t beautiful the way the Rose was, he lacked the feminine charm and grace that Rouvin possessed. 

“They will! At least I think they will-” the sight was almost laughable, as Jaune desperately tried to defend himself, “My mom always said that- you know what I’m just going to stop right there. Anyone do you know where we’re going or not?”

“We need to go to the auditorium.” Jaune breathed a sigh of relief when Pyrrha spoke up, the reaper just raised an eyebrow, unimpressed with that revelation. He already knew that much, he just didn’t know where that was, if he knew he wouldn’t be wasting his time here. He would be with Yang, he should have just gone with her.  _ ‘Get yourself together.’  _ Rouvin scolded himself blocking out whatever Jaune and Pyrrha were saying, and instead just started following the two older teens when they started taking off towards a building that must have been the damn auditorium,  _ ‘Yang and Qrow didn’t raise a complainer.’ _

Jaune and Pyrrha had been talking about… something, to be perfectly honest Rouvin really wasn’t paying that much attention to it, if it doesn't concern him was it really his business? Though he did hear some passing words, most notably being the words ‘tattoos’ ‘freaky’ ‘cool’ and the phrase ‘be nice’. So it seemed that the conversation did concern him, and while none of the words were really enough to trigger anything from within him, the damn voices in his head rose slightly in intensity, hating him, insulting him. The reaper groaned and clutched his head in mild discomfort, the last thing he needed was a migraine, so it looked like it would be up to him to change the topic of conversation. So naturally, Rouvin asked the first thing on his mind, “So what exactly are your weapons?” It was strange, all three of them carried swords of some type. Pyrrha had a sword and shield slung over her back, Rouvin himself had Kauwela, and one of Crescent Rose’s three forms was a sword, giving him the ability to dual wield, and Jaune only had a sword sheathed at his hip, no second weapon, and no shield.

“Well I got this sword.” Jaune struggled to pull the sword out of the sheath, and once he finally managed to wrestle the weapon free, the sheath expanded, until it was a white shield with a golden crest painted onto the center. Both sword and shield seemed rather archaic, and the mechashift was extremely basic, but also extremely useful, “And this shield which turns into the sheath, so when I get tired of carrying it… I can just put it away.”

Arc took a step back, when the Rose examined the shield with an appraising eye, sure enough it looked quite old, but well cared after, and it seemingly lacked any ranged capabilities, maybe Jaune just had an extremely versatile semblance? But as useful as the mechashift was, it didn’t seem very practical. After all the mass of the shield, and the sheath would have to be the same, after all they are the same thing, and the shield was seemingly larger than the sheath, therefore it had to be hollow, and therefore had less stopping power, “But they have to weigh the same amount.” Rouvin knocked against the metal shield, sure enough it was hollow, sure it could stop a swing, but unless Jaune was constantly infusing the shield with aura, then it wouldn’t be of much use, “And it’s hollow, so how useful is that really?”

“I guess so.” The older boy looked so disappointed, Rouvin almost felt bad, but then Jaune fumbled around with his sword and shield, and any pity he almost felt was gone, because was this guy for real? They were at Beacon for crying out loud and he was struggling to put a sword and shield back together. There was something off about Jaune, if Rouvin didn’t know any better, he would say that Jaune didn’t have any training at all and just somehow managed to lie his way into Beacon. But there was no way Ozpin would ever let something like that happen… right? “This usually works, why isn’t it working?” Jaune grew more and more frustrated as he continually tried, and failed, to return the shield into a sheath.

“Huh.” Rouvin raised an eyebrow, this was honestly just pathetic to watch, suddenly the teasing smirk on his face returned full force, nudging Pyrrha slightly, the champion turned to face the reaper, his silver eyes alight with mischief, “Well you know Jaune, performance issues aren’t uncommon.” Jaune paused in his attempt to fix his weapon, as the implications of Rouvin’s joke sunk in, Pyrrha felt her face heat up, and her body betraying her mind, as almost subconsciously her eyes trailed down, before her head snapped up again, the champion felt ready to die of embarrassment, all while Rouvin laughed quietly to himself. “Oh I’m terrible.” The reaper finished laughing quietly before nudging the still red faced Invincible Girl, “But what do your weapons do Pyrrha?”

The auditorium grew closer and closer, and the tournament champion felt herself relax, because this was comfortable territory, this was familiar territory, and this was a territory that actually made her happy. Pyrrha reached over her back, drawing both of her weapons, “These are Miló and Akoúo̱. Miló is the sword and can transform into a javelin and a rifle.” The champion demonstrated the transformation to the two boys, both of whom somehow didn’t seem to realize who she was. Jaune breathed in a small “wow” of awe as he watched the transformation, even though it wasn’t anything special, “And Akoúo̱ is the shield, it can be thrown, and parts of the edges are sharpened so they could be used to bash someone with.”

“Seems like you got all your bases covered.” was what Rouvin offered as a response as he thought about the weapons, capable of close, mid, and long ranged combat, wand whatever the hell her semblance was, Pyrrha certainly carried herself like she was experienced, a sharp contrast to Jaune, he would like to battle her, see what she could really do, though Rouvin had to admit that the javelin form of Miló was fairly short, like hardly any larger than the xiphos form. Maybe Pyrrha would think about increasing the weapon’s length? It would certainly be possible to make Miló a balanced throwing spear, increasing its length, while still allowing it to be thrown with ease. But it looked like it was his turn now. Rouvin reached towards Kauwela, and pressed a switch along the sheath, the dust in the sheath began rotating, until Rouvin slowly drew the sword from the sheath, unlike the night of the robbery, this time Kauwela appeared as a red blade, infused with burn dust.

“This is Kauwela.” Rouvin’s voice was quiet as he showed off the hybrid dust sword to Pyrrha and Jaune, Pyrrha nodded at the weapon, recognizing the tell tale color of dust, while Jaune whistled appreciatively, “She’s a hybrid dust sword, and the sheath functions as a rotary dust chamber.”

“Hybrid dust blade?” 

“It took a lot of chemistry, and math, along with the help of my Uncle, but we were able to do it.” Rouvin felt a grin form on his face and he re-sheathed Kauwela, before reaching one hand behind his back to draw Crescent Rose, while the other hand stroked Kauwela softly, “And I also have this.” When he spoke those words, Crescent Rose sprang to full length, the massive scythe drawing other weapons easily.

“What is that?” Jaune’s jaw seemed to drop to the floor, both at the sight of the massive scythe, and with the ease that Rouvin held it with, he wasn’t even using two hands to hold the scythe! 

The scythe certainly made Rouvin feel nostalgic, and as he looked at the crimson weapon, Rouvin felt the infernal voices in his head fade away for a brief while, with his Uncle’s voice taking their place.

* * *

_ “Are you sure you want to learn how to use a scythe kiddo?” Qrow Branwen, the top ranked huntsmen, looked surprisingly unsure of himself, as he stared at his ten year old nephew. Signal had told its students to start thinking about the weapon that they wanted to make, and the huntsman or huntress that they wanted to emulate. But he never would have thought that the one student who wanted to be just like him, would be his own nephew. “Scythes are one of the most dangerous weapons in all of Remnant kiddo, difficult to learn and almost impossible to master. Even I’m still learning how to use Harbinger to its full potential.” _

_ “I’m sure that I’m sure.” it was such a simple answer, one only a ten year old child could give with such enthusiasm, Rouvin was practically bouncing in his seat as he talked. The sight made Qrow smile softly to himself, despite everything, the boy still managed to be so enthusiastic about life, “You told us to think about what huntsman we want to emulate, and you’re the answer! I want to be Remnant’s next scythe master!” _

_ “Are you sure?” _

_ “Please?” And here came the puppy dog eyes, fantastic, it was just like Summer all over again, not even Raven could say no to the puppy dog eyes, when Summer’s wolf ears would flatten against her scalp, and tears would come to her eyes, “Please? Please? Please? Please?” _

_ ‘You really had to inherit your mom’s stubbornness too didn’t ya kiddo?’ Qrow sighed at the thought, if Rouvin really wanted to learn how to use a scythe then fine, he would teach him. But he would need to take this extremely seriously, Qrow would no longer just be his uncle, or the man raising him, he would be his teacher now too, and the third thing needed to be separate from the first two, ‘Sorry Shortstack.’ The Q of STRQ apologized to his deceased leader, ‘but the kid already has your look and stubbornness, the last thing the world needs is for him to also have your fighting style.’ _

_ “Alright” Qrow relented, cutting off Rouvin's seemingly endless tirade of ‘pleases’ the huntsman sighed, taking a quick drink, and rubbing a hand along his face, “But before I train you, there are three rules you have to agree to.” _

_ “Name them!” Silver eyes flashed with determination, and even the four other eyes imprinted on the ten year old seemed to shine brighter than normal. _

_ “Alright.” A small chuckle escaped Qrow’s throat as he ruffled Rouvin’s hair, an action that had the ten year old protesting, despite his laughter showing that he really wasn’t upset, “Number 1: When training you’ll do as I say, no complaining.” _

_ “Ok.” No hesitation whatsoever, just pure determination and willpower, things that ten year olds shouldn’t possess. _

_ “Number 2: Never let anyone tell you that you can’t follow your dream just because you have two semblances kiddo.” _

_ A brief flinch, a moment of silence, but not the silence of doubt, it wasn’t hesitation holding Rouvin back, it was fear, “...Alright.” _

_ Qrow ruffled his nephew’s hair again, this time Rouvin didn’t even bother to protest, instead opting to take a drink of his chocolate milk, “Finally Number 3: You have to be willing to give this your all kiddo, even if that means giving it 135%. If you can do those three things, then you’ve got yourself a teacher.” _

_ The ten year old blinked in confusion, he had always been told that he was good at math, and what his Uncle told him couldn’t be right, “Uh Uncle Qrow?” _

_ “Yeah kiddo?” _

_ “There isn’t such thing as 135%.” The ten year old rubbed his head sheepishly. _

_ “Kiddo, don’t sass your teacher.” _

* * *

“This is Crescent Rose.” Rouvin smiled at the memory of his Uncle agreeing to teach him the way of the scythe, it was what truly set him on the path towards being a huntsman, a path that he still walked five years later, “She’s a High Caliber Sniper Scythe Sword.”

“Huh?”

“She’s a scythe, a sword, and a really, big gun.” The Rose demonstrated, turning the scythe into the sword, that would get held in his off hand when dual wielding. The conversation came to a halt when the three teens finally arrived at the auditorium. Rouvin let Jaune and Pyrrha go ahead of him, before returning Crescent Rose to a compact form, and attaching it to the back of his waist. All before stepping inside the cramped and crowded auditorium, ready to take the first step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this chapter was supposed to include the auditorium section too, but then I somehow got 3,000 words out of what I already have, so auditorium will be next chapter. Which means return of the Ice Queen, and that also means Weiss and Yang get to have a gay panic, because your honor, they're in love.
> 
> Little Rouvin is just precious ball of sunshine, and then he evolved into a ball of angst. And Qrow is just a dad, he's basically Yang and Rouvin's dad, not officially of course (He's totally not going to adopt them later on or something)
> 
> Also does any one know if there's really a word to describe how Rouvin looks? Like a guy with feminine charm, is there a word for that? Like guys are typically called handsome, while women are gorgeous and beautiful, is there a word to describe a guy who looks a little feminine, outside of just gorgeous and beautiful?


	6. The Girl who Burned Brightly

The auditorium honestly resembled a gymnasium more than anything else. A set of doorways was present and could be seen in every single cardinal direction, a large stage was pushed to the back of the room, set a few feet above the ground, forcing the students below to look skyward to get a glimpse at the speaker, currently, the stage was empty save for a podium that has a microphone built into the surface. Flanking both sides of the auditorium were rows upon rows of bleachers, both were currently pushed out, and both had students sitting on the, animatedly talking to their friends, it all really helped sell the gymnasium idea. While some students were seated on the bleachers, others were still just milling around, aimlessly wandering across the room, perhaps searching for their friends, or maybe waiting for the reason why they were required to come to the auditorium. Rouvin felt a frown form on his face as he made his way through the auditorium, finding Yang should be fairly easy, his big sister always had a way of making her presence known, even in crowds as big as this one, she usually achieved the feat through her combination of bad puns, and bad flirting, and then getting angry when people took her flirting too seriously. Rouvin felt his frown grow, when all the sound in the auditorium seemed to vanish, consumed by some external force. Then there was a sudden cry of agony, several sounds of empathy from onlookers mixed in with cries of laughter from others. 

The answer to the obvious question of what the hell had just happened soon presented itself, a tall boy with a vibrant red head of hair, which was spiked into a mohawk, the boy almost looked like a cardinal, and Rouvin found the thought incredibly amusing for some reason. Anyway, the boy stumbled away wincing with every single step, walking in such a way that the only answer to what had just happened was that he had been kicked in the groin. Unlike most of the other guys present, Rouvin didn’t murmur in sympathy, or pat the guys shoulder. If Yang had ever taught Rouvin anything, it was that if a guy got kicked in the groin, then he most likely deserved it. Speaking of Yang, there she was, hair still burning brightly, and eyes still a bloody crimson instead of her usual kind and warm lilac. The Rose sighed at the sight, any sympathy for the cardinal haired boy he might have possessed evaporated in an instant, if anything he was lucky that all Yang did was kick him in the groin, where if Rouvin ever saw him trying to hit on Yang again, Rouvin would tear him into bloody pieces. “I would have kicked him harder.” The reaper spoke casually as he popped up next to his sister. Yang’s eyes faded back to lilac and her hair cooled down at the sight of her younger brother.

“I wanted to.” The auditorium returned to casual conversation once again, and the two siblings nodded a quick farewell to Yang’s friends, though Rouvin could have sworn he saw some resentful glares sent his way by a few of his older sister’s friends. The siblings moved off to the eastern end of the room, sitting on the bleachers. Rouvin leaned back from his place on the bleachers, and placed his hands behind his head, “But I couldn’t exactly get expelled before initiation now could I?” The question was rhetorical in nature, but Rouvin jokingly brought a hand to his chin and considered it. 

“I guess not.” 

“Where were you anyway?” With all the care of a concerned mother, Yang gently grasped Rouvin’s shoulders and checked him over for any injuries. Because of his lack of defensive aura, injuries would be easily seen, however Yang was forced to admit that she couldn’t see any bruises that would suggest that he had been hurt, though his clothes and hair were oddly messed up, and she could swear that Rouvin had flakes of dust in his hair, “it shouldn’t have taken you so long to find the auditorium.”

“I mean I wandered around the courtyard, and then I exploded.” The answer that Yang was given by her brother was deadpan, and Rouvin sounded more than slightly ticked off, “But I suppose that it’s my own fault, I did tell you to go on ahead.”

“Really? You had a meltdown already?” Yang knew that perhaps her own answer sounded a little cruel, but it was true, while Rouvin liked to hide it as best as he could, on occasion, his composure slipped. It hadn’t happened for over a year, but the few times that he did lose control, he became almost a completely different person, Yang and Qrow basically agreed that they would pretend that they didn’t know about it. Whatever went on with Rouvin when he lost control, he always seemed deeply ashamed about it, and self deprecating to an extreme point, even for him.

“What? No, I literally exploded.” A gloved hand ran its way through Rouvin’s hair, there it was, that terrible word, calling his periods of anger and rage meltdowns was being entirely too generous. Rouvin was certain that Yang and Qrow at least had some clue about the so-called “meltdowns”, though he doubted they knew what really went on with them. But maybe it was best to just let them keep thinking that they knew what was going on, better that they simply think he lacked control over his destructive urges, than the horrible reality that was the truth, “Like a dust explosion, a Schnee of all people waved a vial of burn dust in my face.” Yang raised an unimpressed eyebrow at the story, though Rouvin couldn’t exactly blame his sister for the look, the story certainly did sound unbelievable, “And there was some ice, earth, and lightning too. It was all rather-”

“There you are!” The much louder voice of Weiss Schnee drowned out whatever Rouvin was going to say next, the heiress still looked a little rattled from the previous dust explosion, and the effects of it were much more visible on her than they were on the reaper. Weiss’s white dress and jacket were both covered in light stains of ashes, and the flakes of red dust that found their way in Rouvin’s hair, were easily seen in Weiss’s pale white hair. 

“ A hele hou mākou” The foreign words fell from Rouvin’s lips once again, and the reaper pinched the bridge of his nose. Here they were again, the same old song and dance, was there any sin that Rouvin had committed that made him deserve this punishment? Forced to listen to a Schnee berate him for her own mistake.

“Speak Atlesian!” Weiss huffed, her face already red, and her voice shrill, “And what were you thinking, you could have killed both of us!”

“Gods, you really did explode.” Yang breathed in surprise, bringing her hand to her face, shaking her head slowly, only Rouvin could have somehow caused this on his first day at Beacon, well at least her brother was already living up to the legacy of Team STRQ, “I just thought that maybe it was a code for something.” Rouvin’s response was to just give Yang an unimpressed look, what part of ‘I exploded’ sounded like a code of all things?

“ʻAʻole wau ka mea e lūlū ana i ka lepo” a smirk formed on Rouvin’s lips as he continually spoke the tribal language instead of Atlesian, if the heiress wanted to blame him for events that were beyond her control, then she was going to become bilingual fairly quickly, was it petty? Absolutely. Did she deserve it? Maybe. Was it funny, watching the heiress become enraged at her inability to understand him? Definitely. 

“In Atlesian, cub.” Yang sounded tired, and Rouvin felt a stab of pity and empathy run through him, he was being selfish again wasn’t he? Causing Yang unnecessary worry and stress. The Rose felt himself get overcome with shame. What was it he had just said to Jaune and Pyrrha?  _ “I’m terrible.”  _ his own words came back to him, echoing in his head. He really was just a terrible brother wasn’t he. 

“I said that I wasn’t the one waving the dust around.” Any enthusiasm, or fight that was in Rouvin’s voice before was gone, and instead he just seemed very tired, “But… I’m sorry.”

“I think you just got off on the wrong foot.” Yang stood up and ruffled Rouvin’s hair, the black, crimson, and silver haired boy however didn’t respond, instead opting to gaze at his gloved hands intently. It almost looked like Rouvin was looking either at, or looking for something that only he could see, like his mind was only partially in the auditorium, “Anyway I’m Yang Xiao-Long. Nice to meet you, Ice Queen.” the blonde brawler extended a hand, in a sign of peace.

While Weiss huffed at the nickname, she did turn slightly red at the sight of the beautiful blonde. The heiress took Yang’s hand in her own and shook it, taking note about how the brawler’s hands were much more rough and calloused, as opposed to her own pale, cold, and unmarred hands. But while Yang’s hands were rough and calloused, they were also solid and dependable, they were basically what Weiss aspired to be like. Weiss knew that she probably held onto the blonde’s hand for too long, especially since the dark haired boy was giving her a knowing look, with his silver eyes lit up mischievously, all while a teasing smirk formed on his face, “ E loaʻa kahi lumi ʻolua"

” Once again the dark haired boy opted to speak in that strange language, it wasn’t one that the SDC heiress had ever heard of, but it was beautiful in a strange way. Much like the boy himself, now that Weiss wasn’t glaring at him, she could see that Rouvin himself was quite beautiful. His skin was pale, like most people from Atlas, but it also seemingly lit up by an ethereal glow, his tri-colored hair contrasted nicely with his luminous skin, and his sharp facial features, and feminine charm just made him beautiful in ways that other guys just never would be. 

But when she looked closer, Weiss also realized that Yang shared some of the same facial features as Rouvin, both had the sharper facial features, strong jawlines, and high cheekbones. And both shared the same small button nose, and while their eyes were radically different colors, they were the same shape. Maybe the two were cousins? Or maybe they were somehow twins? 

“So how are you two related anyway?” The question caused the two half-siblings to pause in whatever they were doing, checking out the Schnee heiress discreetly in Yang’s case, and Rouvin was forced to look up from the picture of team STRQ that Qrow had given him a few years ago, the four people who made up his family were in that picture, even if only one of them had really been there for him. Maybe only three people in that picture made up his family, though he doubted that Qrow and Yang would be happy to hear that Raven was one of those people. Rouvin was by no means trying to justify Raven’s behavior, for reasons only known to her, she left the newborn Yang and Taiyang and went back to the Branwen Tribe. But Rouvin had met his aunt one time, only one time, and she had helped him, and not only that, she had saved him, and for that she would always have a portion of her nephew’s respect, he even based Kauwela’s design on her Omen. But anyway back on track, both siblings were rather surprised by the observation from the heiress.

Most people didn’t realize that they were siblings, or even related until they were told by Rouvin, Yang, or both at the same time. But somehow Weiss Schnee had figured it out. The two siblings stared at each other, communicating without having to exchange a single word, eventually they came to a decision with Yang nodding forcefully, while Rouvin just shrugged half heartedly, “We’re siblings, half siblings if you wanted to be precise.”

“We’re siblings.” Rouvin offered his own two cents on the matter, his eyes softer than Weiss had ever seen, though that wasn’t saying much. The Rose scooted himself closer to his older sister and leaned himself against her, while a gloved hand gently reached up and began untangling a snarl of golden hair with surprising dexterity. “We might only share one parent, and our bloodlines may differ, but we’re siblings in every way that matters.” The reaper finished his statement rather passionately, fully tungangling Yang’s mane of golden hair, before pulling a hairbrush seemingly out of thin air, and began brushing the golden locks of hair with a practiced eye and a steady hand. 

Whatever was going to be said next was cut off by the telltale sound of a mic check. Standing on the stage was professor Ozpin himself still holding his mug, and behind him was Professor Goodwitch, her arms crossed as she stared down at the first year students. “I will keep this brief,” The headmaster spoke into the microphone, and every student seemed to be holding on to his words like their lives depended on it, “You have traveled here in pursuit of _ knowledge _ , believing that it will liberate you.” 

“Yet when I look at you, all I see is wasted energy.” Wow, talk about a harsh assessment, of course they were wasted energy, they were children for crying out loud! Yang wouldn’t even be a legal adult until the 28th of the Ripe Corn Moon, and that wasn’t for almost another year. People didn’t fully understand their path until they finished walking it, and that didn’t happen until the end of their lives. What happened in between was where they should find that outlet, that transforms them from wasted energy into the next generation of huntsmen and huntresses, “Knowledge can only take you so far, especially when your enemy is one that humans and faunus can never truly know or understand, the Grimm, beings of pure  _ destruction.”  _

“At Beacon you must be prepared to lay down your life for honor, for the people, for  _ creation.  _ But ultimately these words are meaningless, and will remain meaningless unless you  _ choose  _ to take the first step.” Ozpin stepped back and Goodwitch began speaking into the microphone, instructing students about how they would be staying in the auditorium for the night, the words mostly just went in one ear and then out the other for Rouvin, his head was still spinning from Ozpin’s speech, there was something important that he was missing. But the reaper had no clue what he was missing, or what that information would even do for him, ultimately it would just have to be a mystery for another day.

Once again, the Rose felt a frown form on his face, he was sitting on his sleeping bag, staring, just staring at the picture of Team STRQ, though most of his attention was split between the two women on the team, the S and the R, his mom and his aunt. Staring at the picture honestly hurt Rouvin just as much as it made him happy, because staring at the picture proved that Kauwela “Summer” Rose had been a real person, she hadn’t just been some fake name or face that Rouvin had made up to hide from his pain. But it also was a reminder of everything that he had lost, Yang and his mom was dead, had been for as long as Rouvin could remember, he had no real concrete memories of her, just a few vague recollections of a face, and a vague remembrance of her smile, and the lullabye that she used to sing. But besides that he had nothing, what weapons did she use? What were her favorite foods? What things did she do for fun? When did she decide to be a huntress? Basic things that children should know about their mothers, but things that he didn’t know, and would never know. Qrow never liked talking about Rovuin and Yang’s mom, it always made him sad, and Rouvin honestly wondered if his Uncle had been in love with Kauwela “Summer” Rose.

The Rose wasn’t a fool, he knew the circumstances behind his birth, he was just a drunken mistake, the result of a drunk one night stand, between a still grieving Taiyang Xiao-Long, and a very, very drunk Summer Rose. Rouvin doubted that his biological father had ever loved him, the man was honestly too drunk to love anything. As far as Rouvin was aware, Taiyang was still alive, but the man could honestly never speak to Rouvin or Yang ever again, for all he cared, the man was never there for Yang, and he certainly was never there for Rouvin. Qrow taking his niece and nephew in was honestly the best thing to ever happen to Rouvin, and if someone ever asked about his family, then Qrow would be his dad, Yang his sister, Summer his mom, Raven his aunt, and then Tai was there, he was there, and Rouvin really couldn’t say anything more than that.

“It’s like a big slumber party.” Yang drew out the word ‘big’ before plopping herself down next to her younger brother. Said brother scoffed lightly before glaring at all the guys trying to get his big sister’s attention. Instead of offering a verbal response, Rouvin just grabbed his scroll and began looking at more colors for eyeshadow he was starting to run low, at this point he only carried a few different shades or red, a silver, and an icy blue, but he was considering expanding his color palette a little more, maybe some darker pinks, or more vibrant purples would be nice? Art could be found everywhere on Remnant, but beauty to Rouvin was an artform all on it’s own, and he considered himself a bit of an artist, albeit a much more casual one. But the way the reaper saw it, he had been born with only two things to call his own, his name, and his looks, so he might as well use them to his own advantage, even if that resulted in people calling him girlish and vain. 

“You know Uncle Qrow wouldn’t approve of all the guys.” Yang just snorted at the offhand comment, there was no real threat behind it, just a casual observation.

“He isn’t the only one in the family I’m sure.” The blonde brawler pointed out, noting the withering glares that Rouvin was sending at any boy that even gave Yang a second glance, or a glance that was even a little too friendly, “Besides.” Yang’s own voice took on the teasing edge that Rouvin often used, “I never said anything about the boys.”

The reaper just laughed at the statement, if Yang wanted to date a girl then fine by him, he had suspected as much, at least for a while now. None of Yang’s boyfriends ever seemed to work out, they would date for a few weeks and then the relationship, if it could even be called that, would end abruptly. Besides Yang was his sister, his family, and family stood by family no matter what. That very viewpoint was why Rouvin disliked his own father so much, and to a lesser extent his aunt, Yang’s mother, Raven.

Both Tai and Raven in a way, had abandoned their family, Raven in the most literal way possible, but Tai just shut down on his children, not only that, he shut down when Rouvin and Yang had needed him the most, of course saying that Tai had shut down was implying that he had recovered in the first place, but somehow Rouvin doubted that he did, but the fact remained that Rouvin and Yang needed Tai, but he wasn’t there for them, he never had been, and now he never would be. Besides the siblings didn’t need him anymore, they had formed their own family, one that consisted of them, and their uncle. 

“Good for you.” Rouvin clasped his sister’s shoulder and gave her a reassuring nod, she had been brave, admitting to him outloud how she felt, and who she was attracted to. She was already much braver than Rouvin, the reaper was awful at heart to hearts, and just like the voices had asked him the night of the robbery, when was the last time he had said the words ‘I love you’? To his sister, or his uncle? He honestly didn’t know, feelings were just so hard sometimes… all the time, “I saw you eyeing the Schnee-” The childish teasing died on Rouvin’s lips when his eyes spied a familiar dark haired girl, wearing an ebony bow.

His older sister soon followed his gaze until she too spotted the black haired beauty, “Do you know her?”

“Not really, I saw her earlier after Weiss and I had our rather explosive meeting.”

“Well then now’s the perfect time to get to know her!”

“I don’t think that's-” The protest was cut off by Yang standing up and dragging Rouvin to his feet, yanking him over to the other girl, who was reading a small novel, of course Yang was going to end up interrupting a girl who was reading, a girl who had quite the curious reaction to him as well. 

“Hello! I believe you two have met?” Yang’s voice was bright and cheery, burning brightly even during the dark of night.

“We have.” 

“Right well I’m Rouvin.”

“Blake.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

The conversation seemed to die out quickly, with Rouvin ready to bolt, and Blake never even looking up from her novel, but of course, OF COURSE, Yang felt the need to stand in again, “I love your bow Blake.”

“Thanks.”

“It goes so well with your hair.”

That comment seemed to get a reaction out of Blake at least, the stoic girl’s amber eyes shot up towards her bow, almost like she was making sure it was still secure, “Mhm” and suddenly the stoic persona was on once again.

“It’s uh, a really nice bow?” When at least give Yang points for trying, that was more than Rouvin could say he did.

“It is nice.” Blake’s voice clearly implied that she was just about done with the conversation, “It’s almost as nice as my book, which I shall continue to read, when you leave.”

“What’s it about.” The words left Rouvin’s mouth before he could even think, he had screwed up again hadn’t he? Blake was clearly done with the conversation, and then she was gonna get angry, and wouldn’t that be a sight to see, and some people were already trying to sleep.

“Uhh, It’s about a man with two souls.” Blake seemed surprised by the reaper’s question, and didn’t look like she had much more to say than her brief summary.

Two souls huh, it honestly sounded like an interesting enough read, though Rouvin did wonder how having two souls would compare to having two semblances, “So which soul is winning?”

Blake closed the book finally, but not before placing a bookmark in to keep her place, “I’m not really sure.” The older girl admitted, “Both want control of the body, but neither really is winning, and their inability to cooperate only brings them misfortune.”

“I enjoy books.” Rouvin admitted easily, “They don’t have anything on art, at least not to me, but Yang and my Uncle used to read me stories as a kid.” Talk about a nostalgia trip, all those old fairy tales came back to the reaper, The Warrior in the Woods, The Story of the Seasons, The Shallow Sea, The Girl in the Tower. All stories told to Rouvin as a kid, “Stories of heroes and monsters, and like basically every child out there, those stories made me want to be a huntsman.”

“Why?” Blake sounded amused, even a little condescending, “Hoping you’ll have your happily ever after?”

“Hell no.” Rouvin snorted at the very thought, happily ever afters didn’t exist, and if they did they wouldn’t apply to someone like him, they would apply to someone who was good, not a hideous thing like himself, “Happily ever after doesn’t exist, but I want to see a world where all people can live equally regardless of their bloodline.”

“That’s pretty ambitious.” Blake admitted, still sounding slightly condescending, as if Rouvin didn’t know all about the horrors of the world, “Especially for someone our age, but the real world isn’t a fairy tale.”

“That’s true.” It was an easy admission to make, Remnant sure as hell wasn’t perfect, but that didn’t mean that steps to improve it couldn’t be made, “But no matter how ambitious or naive the goal may be, a world free from oppression is worth fighting for.”

The statement seemed to stun Blake into silence, because the ebony haired girl offered no other words, and the sibling duo eventually returned back to their own sleeping bags, ready to face whatever challenge Beacon would throw at them next.

* * *

Deep inside Evernight Castle, Salem was worried, yes, even the queen of the Grimm herself was worried, because despite her best efforts, her experiment wasn’t working. Sure on paper Fenris seemed to be a success, still capable of generating an aura and using her semblance despite the ghastly condition her body was in. However somehow, defying all odds, Fenris still seemingly had a free will. Yes, Salem’s hunter, would listen to basic orders. However Fenris also interpreted those orders creatively, and once she was no longer in Salem’s presence, Fenris was free to do as she pleased. And Salem honestly wasn’t sure if she could trust Fenris with even the basic task of stealing dust for Cinder, because what if Salem’s latest experiment decided to go rogue?

**_“...ThHeErEe… IisS… aA… SsiMmPplLe… SsoOLluTtiOoNn…”_ ** Salem’s own experiment freely offered from her vantage point, leaning silently against one of the walls. Fenris seemingly emerged from the shadows and Salem felt a flash of smugness radiate from her being, with her cloak and hood fully covering her body, Fenris seemed more like a presence than a person, and ultimately Fenris was what all life unknowingly feared, emptiness cloaked in darkness.

“Oh, and what would that be Fenris?” The queen snapped, angry at having been interrupted when not only was she thinking about how to fix Fenris, but she was also working on another little side project of hers. Fenris was certainly useful, but this next creation might be even more so, a true hunter, one with no humanity to hold itself back, a real bloodhound. Unfortunately it was not yet ready, so for now Fenris would have to be good enough. Besides Salem needed to make sure that The Hound was truly a mindless slave, it wouldn’t do for Salem to have two rebellious servants, especially since Cinder was already so much of a hassle.

**_“fFoOrRgE… A… cConNtTrAcCtT… wiItthH… MeEe…”_ **

“And what would the details of this contract be Fenris?”

**_“Ii… KkiIll… OoZzPpIinN… and… YyoooUU… GgivVee… Mee… what… I…. WwanNtT…”_ **

The idea certainly had merit, especially since Ozpin would have to go, Ozpin had been a thorn in her side for too long, and sadly he no longer had a place in Salem’s plans. Besides, if Fenris really wanted to forge a binding contract, then she would have to offer Salem something up in return, as incentive, and there was only one thing Salem wanted, and it was something only Fenris could give.

“And what is it you want?” Salem asked the question rhetorically, she knew exactly what Fenris wanted.

**_“mMyY… CchHillDdrReeNn…. And… If…. YooU…. CaN… sSomMehoWw…. UnNaBble… TtoO.. GgivVe… meee…. TthHeMm… ThenN…. My…. FfRreEdDoMm…”_ **

Hmm, the second part could prove to be an annoyance, but all Salem would have to do, was word the contract in such a way, that Fenris would only get what she wanted if SHE was the one to directly kill Ozpin, then Salem could just have Cinder kill Ozpin instead, and then Fenris could finally be Salem’s perfect puppet, a complete slave to the queen of Grimm’s will.

“And what would you offer to be in return?”

**_“Mmyy…. FfRrEE… WwiLl…”_ ** there it was, it was all out there. The entire Evernight Castle seemed to go silent, this decision could change much, it could change nothing, but regardless, Salem had a choice to make. Fenris had her hand stuck out, ready to forge the contract.

Underneath her cloak, Fenris kept her expression calm, this was it, the chance she had been looking for, she couldn’t remember much, but she did remember her kids, her son and her daughter, and this binding contract could be her chance to get them back once again, she had much to gain, but also much to lose. But to see her children again, would be worth anything.

“Do you, Fenris, agree to kill Professor Ozpin in exchange for your children or your freedom? Knowing that if you fail to do so, you sacrifice your free will to our goddess Salem?” Tyrian acted as the witness to the contract, the insane faunus looked oddly excited about the whole affair, practically bouncing up and down.

**_“Iii… DdoO…”_ ** Fenris’s soul brushed against Salem’s sealing her end of the contract.

“Do you, Salem, agree to give Fenris her children or her freedom after she kills Professor Ozpin? Knowing that if Fenris fails to do so, she surrenders her free will to you, her creator and goddess?”

“I do.” And with those words said, the contract was forged, Fenris’s aura rose up, brushing against Salem’s the contract had been forged, the terms were set, now all that was left for Fenris to do was kill Ozpin. Underneath her hood, Fenris’s yellow eyes glowed, suddenly becoming visible despite the hood obscuring her face, Salem took a step back, briefly wondering, if she had made a grievous mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did I purposefully have Ozpin mention the four attributes that make up the relics? Yes, yes I did.
> 
> Translations (In order that they appear in)  
> 1: And here we go again  
> 2: I wasn't the one waving the dust around  
> 3: Get a room you two
> 
> And the last portion here is devoted to explaining exactly what the hell binding contracts are: Basically biding contracts, like the one just forged between Salem and Fenris are agreements to do certain things, in exchange for certain things. The contract forged between Fenris and Salem is pretty self explanatory, Fenris agrees to kill Ozpin in exchange for getting her children back, and if Salem somehow doesn't have Fenris's children, then Fenris gets her freedom back (which basically means that the basic control that Salem has over Fenris would be gone, meaning Fenris can go wherever the hell she wants). But Fenris offered her own freewill up as the price, so if Ozpin dies in any other way than Fenris killing him, bam! Fenris becomes a mindless slave of Salem. Salem was smart enough to have it explicitly state that Fenris has to kill Ozpin, if anyone else does it then to bad for Fenris. But Fenris was also smart enough to know that Salem could be lying and might not even have her children, and therefore tagged on the part about her freedom as a second reward.

**Author's Note:**

> So welcome to the 1st chapter of the rewrite for this series, if you're new to this series the basic thing you have to understand is that someone can have two semblances if their aura is unlocked in dangerous and traumatic situations, and while that sounds pretty useful, the person is left unable to use their aura to defend themselves from attacks.
> 
> as for returning readers, the big thing to note is that Rouvin's second semblance is different in the rewrite, I chose to change it because the photographic reflexes from the original just didn't contribute anything to the narrative, nor did they reflect Rouvin's personality or character at all. Backbiter does a much better job at that.
> 
> No I didn't kill Torchwick off, I wouldn't do him dirty like that.
> 
> Kauwela means 'Summer' in Hawaiian (I'm not crying, you guys are crying). 
> 
> Not that many changes in the first chapter compared to the original, but I'm looking to give the story a bit more beef this time around, and I'm looking to take it a little slower.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [RNBY: Volume One](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27011218) by [Vicky_Omega](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vicky_Omega/pseuds/Vicky_Omega)




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